When She Was Wrong
by J. Travis
Summary: Takes place during season six post "Dead Things". It's AU and neither Buffy nor Willow friendly. R is for language and some of the violence. COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Tara stepped onto the sidewalk and glanced behind her. No, not another soul around, but that didn't mean she couldn't be too careful. Unsure why she felt consumed with a need to be out this night, she took a deep breath and concentrated on the direction of the pull she felt. Pain! Someone was hurt, she thought, and badly. She rushed to her car, newly bought and paid for thanks to a small inheritance from a barely known great-aunt, and headed slowly towards the center of Sunnydale. She wasn't certain where the impression of pain was coming from, but she knew it was somewhere close to Main Street. Pulling to the curb by the Sunnydale Cinema, Tara took another deep breath and focused her mind once more on the unheard cry, the penetrating wound... What the hell is that?' she wondered, penetrating wound?' Still, she was closer to the source and knew it was coming from an alley near the police station. Odd, you'd think the Sunnydale PD would help someone that close to their building, but they were always ineffective at best and corrupt at worst.  
  
She spotted the alley and quickly pulled her hunter green MG into a parking space while saying a prayer, Goddess, please let me help." Dashing across the street and into the darkened alley, Tara heard a low groan and cough. she called, Where are you?  
  
Her only answer was another groan when she spotted a splash of white against the black pavement. Spike, and the smell of blood was strong enough to make Tara's stomach churn . It seemed he'd been tossed to the ground; he looked like the doll thrown at the whim of a wayward child. Unable to determine how serious his injuries were in the dim light, she quickly moved to the stricken vampire and gently examined his face.  
  
Spike? Can you hear me? the worried girl asked, Who did this to you? Try and get up, Spike, I'll help you and get you to Buffy... she'll know what to do.  
  
No, not Buffy, Spike answered moaning in pain again, the crypt, pet, blood...I can walk.  
  
Absolutely not, Tara hissed, I'm helping you. You don't have to go to Buffy's place, but I am helping you. That's final, Spike, you'll come home with me.  
  
She took the vampire's hand and helped him to his feet wondering why he didn't leap at the chance to see Buffy, but she was more concerned with the damage to his face and, potentially, ribs. Not sure if his bones were broken, Tara tried to be as delicate as possible. She decided to stop at Willy's for blood-at least he'd have it on hand this late. Spike attempted to protest, but she refused to hear him out and drove to the bar without much more from the ailing vamp than the occasional wince of pain. She'd know more when she saw him in the light, but she was certain blood was pouring from his ears as well as nose, which scared the hell out of Tara Maclay. Memories of her older brother's abuse threatened to overwhelm her for a moment, but she certainly didn't have time to dwell on that past. Spike helped her once, and now she'd repay his kindness. Whoever thought being punched in the face would turn out to be a kindness? In fact, there was a time when a solid fist across her jaw was an everyday occurrence that inspired only fear and contempt.  
  
The car ride home was quiet since Spike passed out even before she stopped at the bar. Tara glanced at her friend, strange that she considered him a friend, sidelong. He was obviously exhausted and in no shape to take care of himself. Still, she knew she should feel uneasy passing out invitations to vampires-even chipped vampires. His face, normally deceptively angelic, was darkening rapidly while blood clotted around his nostrils and bruises surrounded his eyes. Thank whatever powers watch out for the undead he doesn't have to breathe,' she thought as she parked in her space at the house. The difficult task would be getting him out of the car and upstairs.  
  
Spike, we're here...come on, wake up, she said, I need you to walk up the porch... I can't carry you, Spike, w-w-wake up now. He looked dead. She nervously giggled thinking, 'He is dead, Tara, but at least he's not something I'll have to dustbust from the car tomorrow morning.'   
  
Tara? What we doing here? Not going home with you to that house, pet, told you that, Spike slurred in reply to her statement.  
  
This is my place, Spike, I don't live with... I don't live there anymore, remember, Tara replied not wanting to say Willow's name.  
  
The young woman walked around her car to Spike's side while he watched intensely. Hearing pain in her voice meant little to him for the moment. Perhaps he'd let the pale and dejected witch cry on his shoulder tomorrow, but tonight all he wanted was a fine single malt with an o-pos chaser. Tara, always the quiet one in the Scooby group, didn't seem like the type to aid him. Spike wanted to say as much, but he was grateful and didn't want to screw up a good thing. After all he and Tara suffered through with Dawn, he'd already grown to like her a little, and he appreciated her more than he'd bother to say. Of all the damn Scoobies, she'd stuck by him when Buffy died.... Look where standing up for people got her. On the outs, that's where.  
  
Tara, pretty thing if a little tired lookin', offered her arm and shoulder casually and without a hint of fear. Spike would take the help. He hurt a lot, and he wasn't going to play prideful moron-Buffy wouldn't see anyway. It wouldn't matter, and he doubted Tara would go running off to the Slayer with tales of his misfortune unless she was certain he didn't mind. He had to give this girl credit, damn, she knew when to keep her mouth shut. He could feel her grip tighten around his waist as they approached the stairs, and Spike smiled thinking he probably could've gotten up there on his own with a lot of effort. Still, her kindness was nice, and she smelled right good too. Like fresh raspberries...the ones his mum used in her special tarts. Spike flinched a bit thinking of his mother. At least he didn't have far too walk, and Tara's little flat was right off the front porch of the old house on the first floor.  
  
Let's get you settled in here, he heard her say as she struggled with her keys, it's two bedroom, but I only have one bed... There's a sofa bed in the front room that I'll sleep on tonight. You take my room.  
  
Now, love, won't be takin' your bed from you, he objected.  
  
You will because I can't afford an urn for your ashes, and I don't have anything large enough to cover the picture window, Tara joked with him to Spike's surprise.  
  
All right, sweets, whatever the lady wants... Got any whiskey? he asked sheepishly.  
  
Maybe...um, I like Irish coffee now and then, and I'll share as long as you let me clean you up with minimal fuss, Spike. No bleeding on my floors.   
  
Spike started to laugh, but the pain quickly stopped him, and Tara dragged him to her sofa. The house, a bit like the one he grew up in, was an old Victorian number renovated into an apartment building. While it was in good shape, the furniture pleasant, and the interior tasteful, the place was in an area reputed for vampire attacks and muggings, and that meant cheap rent. The owner obviously wanted tenants and went out of his or her way to ensure their comfort, but Spike felt a twinge of worry over the girl before him. She was a decent bird, and she didn't deserve ending up on a menu or as ritual sacrifice. He listened to her chat about her day, discuss plans for painting, and hopes to turn the second bedroom into a spare room for company when she had the money, but apparently, her wages at the coffee shop weren't up to snuff. She mentioned dropping out of school, and that was when Spike saw the drawings.   
  
Pen, ink, charcoal, pencil... Spike had no idea Tara was artistically inclined. This girl had a talent to rival Angel's, and an imagination to her work that gave it flair. She didn't just draw a scene, no, Tara put herself in the work. Little pieces of brightness that glimmered on the page like starlight. You'd make a hell of a vampire-seein' the world that way,' Spike wanted to say aloud, but it seemed like a bad idea. What a shame it'd be if she left off studying art. He felt odd noticing Tara's personal life and didn't want to risk embarrassing her with compliments and lectures to stay in school. She returned with her first aid kit, and Spike opted to stay silent. It was rare, but even Spike gave way to second thoughts now and then.  
  
I don't need that, pet, quick healer and no infection possible, Spike told her.  
  
Tara eyed him and said, A minimum of fuss, and I'm cleaning your wounds. Hold still-wouldn't want you to trip and fall on a tongue depressor.  
  
Spike did laugh that time, Threatening little thing, ain't ya now? I'm afraid you'll have to find something bigger than a manufactured twig, Tara, but he liked her joking and small talk because it meant she wasn't prying.  
  
Tara wasn't certain how to approach this situation; she had to find out who hurt Spike. If it was humans, why hadn't he run? His face, covered in purple and black splotches, was a lot worse than she'd originally suspected. One of Spike's eyes was swollen shut, horrifying to Tara's sensibilities, and his nose was certainly broken. Just as she'd feared, both of his ears had taken quite the beating as well, but the right was far worse than the left, and she leaned in to inspect the damage. The cartilage was nearly crushed to pulp. Tara shuddered, 'Who did this to you,' was all she wanted to ask. Softly, yet rapidly, she cleaned his face and motioned for the vampire to remove his shirt.  
  
After wrapping his ribs, Tara inspected his arms and noticed Spike's hands for the first time. What beautiful hands,' she thought, long and tapered fingers...' They reminded her of the one man in her family who'd ever been kind to her, her grandfather; he too kept his nails neatly trimmed and filed though he never wore black nail polish. For that matter, even Spike gave up that habit. She couldn't recall actually seeing the nail polish, but Willow mentioned it a time or two. Tara believed Spike's hands would be perfect for a painting she wanted to work on if he wouldn't mind posing. His hands? They're not hurt...he must have tried to block whatever attacked him.' Tara wondered. It simply made no sense to her that his hands would remain completely uninjured. She had to admit her knowledge of fighting was limited. Intuition nagged at her to get the full story fast, but would he be willing to answer the questions?   
  
"Your ear is in bad shape," she sighed and prayed for courage, "and I think at least one rib is cracked. Um...what did this to you? Maybe I should at least call Buffy and warn her. Spike, please tell me who did this."  
  
"Your standard nasty, kitten, don't worry about it," Spike said, but his words sounded false, I took care of it meself.  
  
Lies stinging the air like ice would pelt against her family's farmhouse in winter, she thought recalling that tinny sound, and the bad ass vamp looked scared. Nothing about his posture, his voice, nothing was right. 'What could scare him? I thought vampires were only afraid of... No!' Tara's mind shouted stopping the thought mid-stream. Her eyes grew wide with horror, and she suddenly ran and vomited in the sink, crying, shaking, and sobbing while Spike watched her more than a little warily.  
  
She turned towards the now standing demon and asked him what she already knew, Buffy did this, Spike, didn't she?  
  
He stumbled back and nodded, and Tara felt rage seep into her bones. She knew half the story already, but she didn't know Buffy was capable of abusing Spike. His injuries reminded her of a time she wanted to forget once more. While she didn't know if the Slayer was smacking Spike around on a regular basis, she couldn't imagine a beating this severe was anything but a culmination to a long and drawn out process. Donnie certainly didn't start out breaking Tara's arm all those years ago. She shuddered at the memory before shoving it away. Yes, Tara knew some vampires enjoy pain now and then; humans were supposed to know better than to beat the hell out of others. Obviously, it didn't stop all of them. Oh, she didn't really care what two consenting adults did in their bedroom, but she was pretty certain this wasn't exactly consensual and had nothing to do with foreplay.   
  
I'm sorry, I should've known...," she blamed herself, "I'm really sorry, Spike. Tara said grimly, Buffy came to me and said she wasn't right. Goddess, w-w-what if it's true? What have we done? The potential horror of the situation hit Tara with the force of an f-5 tornado, and she wanted to vomit again. No, she couldn't let this take over, and she knew she'd be forced to get more answers from the shivering and very bloodied man before her. Let me get us something, she said grimly.  
  
Spike let out a choking sob as he stumbled back to the couch, and Tara quietly walked toward him with a bottle and two shot glasses. Even she felt like having a real drink, screw the coffee. One weeping vampire, half a bottle of whiskey, and a whole lot of anger meant she was a girl without much sleep tonight, but maybe she'd get him to rest. Despite his begging, Tara knew she'd have to talk to Miss Buffy Summers at some point, but what could she possibly say to the Slayer? Who would take this seriously? Xander? Not likely since he hated Spike and would only want to stake him for daring to touch Buffy. Willow was off limits these days. Yeah, her former lover was using a lot of magic, but that wasn't really what bugged Tara, it was the type of magic Willow used. Tara's mother always insisted that natural magic was best, 'Keeps you sane and on the good side of the force, Luke Skywalker,' she thought, cringing at her inner geek. Yet, she just sat back and watched Willow cultivate powers and create spells that were coming from a non-happy place. All because her lover was desperate for one thing-Buffy. And now it seemed that spell too might have backfired; more research was necessary.  
  
Spike asked tentatively, what'd she say to you?  
  
There was no need to ask who was. Tara replied, the stammer coming back to her briefly. B-buffy said you two were...involved, we'll say, and told me you can hit her, sweetie, the term of endearment was meant to comfort but sounded forced to Tara's ears. She believed she came back wrong and w-wanted me to help her. I did a spell to see her aura more clearly, Spike. She seemed okay, but now I don't know. Maybe the changes went a little deeper than the surface...  
  
  
  
Well, yeah, see...it looked like the changes were minute. You could hit Buffy, but she's not a demon. She's just, I don't know, different. Oh God, Spike, I never should've let Willow do that spell, Tara cried, We tore her from heaven... what if the spell went wrong?   
  
'S'not your fault, kitten. Bollocks, I never should'a told her she was wrong, love, I'm bad. I'm evil, soulless, nothing and worthless and every other bleedin' thing the Slayer told me, Spike sighed.  
  
Worthless? What do you mean worthless," she demanded, "Evil I might go along with, Spike, you tell us you're evil all the time, but you're more than that too, and you help without ever being asked these days. Buffy told you you're nothing? Tara's gray-blue eyes narrowed in disgust, How often does she say this garbage?  
  
As soon as the shaggin's done, pet, Tara blushed at his words, Sorry, but it's true. We don't make love, have sex, or even scratch an itch, Tara, it's fucking-no relationship to it as much as I might want it. Damn...first time I've said it aloud, but it's true. Pure and simple, and it ain't pretty. Shouldn't dump this on you, Red'll have my balls if she finds out," she noticed his face filled with pain and regret. He sounded incredibly depressed.   
  
Willow? No, your secret is safe with me, but I think you need to get some rest, Tara led Spike to her room and quickly changed the sheets for him, we'll talk more tomorrow, Spike, maybe we should even speak to Mr. Giles.  
  
Spike looked at the girl before him, his face appeared stunned and a little terrified of that prospect, Rupes'll cut off my parts and toss em in the sun! We are NOT discussing this with him or anyone, Glinda, you can't help. Thank you for taking care of me an' all, but not one word, pet, not one...please? Listen to me! Beggin', whinin', and cryin' all over you... Why are you so easy to talk to, Tara?  
  
Fine, for now, she agreed reluctantly, but you don't see Buffy again, Spike, not until I get some answers. And I promise not to tell anyone your were here begging and whining. She tried to smile at Spike, Hey, just don't decide to kill me because you needed a good listener, her attempt at joking hardly seemed appropriate, but Tara didn't know how else to handle the situation without offending Spike. What bothered her most was that he seemed to blame himself. She doubted he even considered the possibility that Buffy was way off the beam.  
  
The vampire nodded, smiled sadly at her as he started to undress. Tara blushed again and quickly left the room, but what next? Perhaps she should just be grateful he agreed not to see Buffy without more information, but it would happen sooner or later. Tara would have to talk with someone, and if that meant hiring another witch, someone more powerful than herself, Willow would find out and get suspicious. Maybe Spike could help her with this problem since he'd surely want to know if something was really wrong with the love of his unlife.   
  
Contemplating, planning, and worrying is often the best sleeping pill, and Tara really had no choice but to succumb to exhaustion and sleep. She didn't have time to bother with making the sofa bed, turning out lights, or even getting her pajamas. As the night slid towards morning, she vaguely felt pain in her neck but was unable to shake the sleep from her body. Even in dreams Tara told herself, You'll have a kink when the alarm screams at you, but sleep wouldn't leave her overtired limbs; not even when she dreamed of herself lifted, carried, and settled into a more comfortable position. In the morning, she was a little surprised to find herself in her own bed, fully clothed, next to a sleeping Spike. She smiled a tiny grin and said quietly, Big Bad, uh-huh, feeling sorry for the poor human sleeping on the couch. Thanks, and we'll find a way to help you. Spike merely snuggled into her, and Tara giggled uncontrollably, thinking at least her father would be happy to hear a guy was sharing her bed. Maybe it was strange that she felt comfortable with a person once known best as William the Bloody, but she'd seen him change the summer Buffy was gone. More importantly, she believed in that change. That summer she had grown bolder, able to stand for herself, and maybe that's why she found the courage to help Spike. No, it was more than that, she reflected, 'He's a good person...he's buried that good person, but he's in there, and I like the guy.'


	2. When She Was Wrong 2

Willow, edgy from life without Tara, beat her head against Joyce Summer's letter desk. She wanted to see her girlfriend, but why couldn't Tara just understand the memory spell was really to protect what they had? Tara was just being a bitch, she decided, while fingering the binding on Giles' ancient text. She'd found it in Dawn's room and couldn't figure out why he let that kid borrow it. No one seemed to trust her with magic, but Dawn? It wasn't like Willow prayed to some random evil, and her magic helped Buffy. Tara would learn to tough it along with everyone else. If her lover couldn't grasp the concept of helping a friend, Willow decided Tara might just need a little wake-up call. Who knew? Buffy might even be willing to help, and it's not like Dawn could stop either of them. Power, taking hold of the young witch again, was something Willow and Buffy held in spades. No, they had a royal flush in power as far as Willow could see. Tara, Willow told herself, was jealous of a power she couldn't understand let alone have.   
  
Briefly, Willow was horrified by her own thoughts. What's wrong with me? she asked her reflection in the mirror as she stood, No wonder they hate me... Shaking off the anger, she decided to get ready for the day. Sadly, Willow didn't understand that anger was taking over more than sense these days. Her rapid mood shifts were frightening. Maybe Tara was right, and maybe she was screwing with forces better left untapped. Everyone thought she'd just put the magics down for now, but they were a part of her. Willow could no more ignore magic than she could breathing, but did she have to consult dark magic for all the answers? No, but.... Willow almost heard the snap in her mind as it rubber banded back towards the inevitable thought, I'll do what I want.'   
  
With a flick of her hand and murmur in Latin, Willow was dressed and ready to face the day, but what to do about Buffy's depression? She contemplated another forget spell, but using it a third time seemed trite and a lot boring. Darkness flashed across her eyes, 'I want something more,' she thought. Eventually, Buffy would help her because it's what best friends do. That in mind, Willow headed downstairs to see if the Summers sisters managed to get ahead of her for once.  
  
Buffy? Dawn? You two up yet? she called from the landing, I have to get to class early this morning, okay?  
  
Buffy opened her bedroom door, Will, shhh! Dawnie's still asleep. She was all crankmeister last night, and I think she's getting sick-too bad healing spells aren't real. Hey? How come you can raise the dead but not cure a cold?   
  
Willow laughed wryly, thinking of Tara's earlier objections over initiating the blackest of black arts to bring Buffy home. Well, Buffy, I'm not sure...I just wish we could've saved Joyce. Oh! I can make tea to soothe the savage Dawn if you want, she said smiling sweetly at her friend.   
  
Yeah, that'd be good-later. Get to class, and I'll call the brat's teachers, ugh, parenthood is not for the night-owls, Buffy stated matter-of-factly.  
  
Thoughtfully pondering Buffy's words, Willow found herself agreeing even if she was surprised to hear her friend refer to the kid sister as a brat. Oh, Buff called Dawn worse now and then, but it was always said during typical sibling arguments or in affection. The two girls had bantered back and forth a lot before Buffy died, but rarely did so now, and Buffy never called Dawn a brat in casual conversation. Hmm,' the powerful sorceress said to herself, maybe this will be too easy.' Life was simpler without Dawn's constant whining, and Willow knew that for a fact because she was beginning to remember a life without the young teenager. Odd, the spell wasn't meant to unravel. The monks must not have accounted for a witch of such enormous power, and if Dawn was nothing more than a mystical key, tapping into her energy would pose no problems, ethical or otherwise. Use her for something more...what's a good word,' Willow thought, productive.' She waved a good-bye to Buffy and walked out the door.  
  
Buffy Summers, still in her nightgown, padded downstairs as softly as possible. Dawn's fever worried her, but not nearly as much as it would have a year ago. In fact, her lack of concern over the girl bothered her more than the kid's illness. Everything that should've meant something meant less each day. Oh well, chalk it up to one bad night as well as a stupid, blonde, irritating, had it coming to him, vampire! Spike, Buffy guessed, would be sleeping his injuries away and wallowing in his stupid romantic notions. Why didn't he get it? She didn't love him, couldn't, wouldn't, but she enjoyed forgetting heaven in his arms because Popsicle Penis sure had the bedroom abilities down. The Slayer, caught up in memories for a minute, said aloud, Damn, I'm turning into Faith!   
  
With that idea in mind, she scarfed down breakfast quickly and opted to look for a new job. Doublemeat Palace wasn't going to make ends meet, and God knew Hank Summers wasn't helping matters. Perhaps temp work would be the answer to her prayers-not that she really prayed. Thanks to Jonathan, the nerds were no longer a problem. He'd already come forward and turned himself and the others in, and that meant Buffy might have a little free time. After beating the shit out of Spike, Buffy tried to tell the police she killed a girl and discovered said girl was Warren Meer's ex. She knew he must have killed Katrina. That made her decision easy, and she stalked Jonathan throughout the rest of the night. If not for me,' Buffy thought, he wouldn't have agreed to go to the police and do the right thing. I guess I really am the law.' She stretched and smiled while basking in the throes of a superiority complex second only to her ego. Even while depressed, Buffy Summers had a knack for bolstering herself when it came to Slaying.  
  
Later, after Dawn was awake, she'd visit Spike and throw him a bone-maybe. A little blood, a bottle of booze, and shy smile would be enough to keep that piece of filth where she needed him. Oddly enough, Buffy no longer cared what her friends thought about her bedmates, and if that meant screwing Spike blind to keep herself feeling better, so be it. If anyone happened to find out, she'd deal. Dawn, romantic and foolish, would hope it meant a fairy tale ending, but sex doesn't always mean lovers. In fact, the idea of being in love was couldn't be further from the Slayer's mind. Buffy snorted and said to an empty kitchen, Better Dawn learns now, but damn it all if she hadn't forgotten to tell Willow the Nerd Herd was no more. Oh well, that could remedied later.  
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
  
Tara nervously looked out the picture window again; this time, certain she saw Willow drive by in Joyce's car. Instinctively, she knew if Joyce had lived, Buffy probably wouldn't have died. Yes, the Slayer said she was saving the world, but Tara always had an idea she killed herself to get back to her mother. In truth, Dawn should've been packed off to their father immediately, but neither Tara nor Spike could bear to see the teenager leave, and each pleaded her case last summer. Tara, ferocious as a lioness in her defense of Dawn, was the real selling point, and the unlikely three spent most of their time comforting one another. They focused on the future and moving past the pain. Willow told Tara she never felt left out, but Tara would always suspected otherwise. Now here Willow was watching her again, and if she decided to stop at the apartment, she just might see Spike and fling herself at the nearest conclusion. Damn, Willow, just leave, Tara said as the SUV moved to park in front of the apartment.   
  
Pet? You talkin' to me? I'll leave if ya need me to, but I got to have a blanket. She almost screamed hearing his voice. Sorry, din't mean to scare you.  
  
Get down, Spike, now! W-w-willow is out there, Tara almost shouted.  
  
Red? I haven't done a soddin' thing to that bint, witch, Spike muttered eying the woman warily, Why do I need to hide from her? She do this much? Bloody hell, another stalker to hang around, Tara looked at him, shocked, Me, sweets, I guess I kind of stalked Buffy last year,  
  
She relaxed some at his words, happy to hear the stalking part was said in the past tense, and told Spike to get in her room. Come on, we'll talk in there, and Willow will leave, she whispered, Let's just say... Willow hasn't been too nice to me lately. She's really angry I left and thinks I'm being selfish, Spike's eyebrow raised, Yeah, I'm selfish because I'm not into surgical witchcraft-especially on my brain.  
  
As someone who suffered through forced brain surgery, Spike could relate. He nodded his head, and the two dashed into her room to talk. There had to be some hope, resolution, any hint of a better future that didn't include staking, sunlight or burning, and he was sickened by the fact that facing Willow made him nervous-almost frightened. What sort of poncy ass was he becoming? Scared of that little slip of a thing? Not bloody likely,' he said to himself trying to recapture the vampire he'd been, take her out myself if it was me and her alone, yeah, right good idea that.' Since Tara was in the middle, Spike had to admit he didn't want to see her get hurt, and if she was telling the truth, Willow just might be a little more dangerous than anyone guessed. Tara managed to make to him feel welcome, worthy, and all too good about himself even if those feelings wouldn't last. She accepted him in her home, trusted him with herself, she was damn well going to stay safe.  
  
All right, kitten, it's time to tell me the truth. How bad is it with Willow?  
  
Tara withdrew into herself a bit-something Spike discovered he didn't like. He watched her bottom lip slip between her teeth as she chewed, a nervous habit he assumed, but he wasn't going to let this topic drop. Come on, little one-  
  
I'm hardly little, Spike, Tara interrupted, why do you want to know? If you think you have to help me with Willow because I'm helping you, you're wrong. I already promised, what is it you say? I'm no welsher?  
  
Spike snorted, Americans! Your accent is better than the whelp's, give you that, and no, this isn't about Buffy.  
  
She smiled a bit and continued, Willow's been showing up here at least three times a w-week, but this is the first time she's gotten out of the car, Spike, maybe she just wants to talk. I'm so stupid! I can't let go of what she did... Glory took everything from me, remade me! Willow didn't make me insane, but she changed me, Spike, like I was a doll to manipulate-like your bot.  
  
I'm sorry, pet, the bot was a mistake, but it wasn't real and you are. And Tara? Don't ever call yourself stupid in my presence again, Spike said seriously, You love her and thought with your heart. It makes you a feeling person-not stupid.   
  
Umm, thank you, she replied, Do you think she's gone? Can you hear her?  
  
Just as Tara spoke, a loud banging interrupted the pair. I'd like to say she's gone, but your door is about pop off the hinges, the vampire growled.  
  
Willow yelled, I know you're there. Come on, baby, open up, please! Sweetie, I just want to talk. Tara! Open this door NOW!   
  
You can't avoid her forever; come on, we'll answer together. The sun is higher now, pet, I'll be fine-you will too. Spike put his hand out and clumsily patted the shaking woman on her shoulder. Just be calm, love.  
  
BANG! BANG! THUMP! BANG! In resignation Tara sighed. You're right, (BANG!) Spike, it's got to stop. I need space and she needs to listen, Tara replied finding her courage yet again. BANGTHUMP! This definitely had to stop.  
  
Willow, I'm coming! Quit beating, Tara commanded as she walked across her living room to unlock the door, You're going to break it.  
  
Willow whined, I just miss you so much.  
  
Tara opened the door and allowed Willow entry to the apartment, Willow, you can't come here whenever you want. I have neighbors who are still sleeping, Tara told her former lover, besides, I didn't ask you to come here this morning.  
  
I just wanted to see you, Willow pouted and glanced around the room, her eyes going wide, What's he doing here? The whining and pouting quickly changed to a casual facade meant to hide a new, but deadly, edge in her voice.  
  
Good to see you too, Red, Tara's just helping me with a project, Spike said warily.  
  
Project? What kind of project, Willow sneered, she'd never help you... Tara's too-  
  
Stop it, the blonde woman interrupted angrily, Tara is right in the room and can speak for herself! What do you need, Willow? I'm not coming with you. I live here now, and we talked about this already. Stop calling, stop driving by, and don't come unless you're invited.   
  
Both Spike and Willow gaped in astonishment, and Spike felt his admiration of Tara increase tenfold. She was actually tossing Willow out of her place! It's about time someone told that little chit she was a pushy bitch. This was fun, and Spike couldn't help but grin in satisfaction.  
  
Almost as if she'd read Spike's mind, Tara spoke to Willow, You're pushing me. It's not right and you know it. As for Spike, it's my time to spend helping him, and it's none of your business.  
  
Willow's eyes narrowed, He's evil! I only want to protect you, and Buffy won't like this either, Tara.  
  
Willow, thank you for your concern, but this is my life. You don't get to tell me what is or isn't a good idea these days, Tara said quietly but forcefully, And Buffy? Well, she's never dictated my behavior, and I won't let her start now. I had more than enough guidance' in my life. Please go-now.  
  
With that said, Tara opened the door again and pointed Willow towards it. She was sick of orders from others, and this really was the last straw. Willow glared again at the vamp and cried a little for Tara's benefit, but she finally walked out the door.   
  
Both Tara and Spike slumped on the couch in relief, and he did let her cry on his shoulder. Oddly, he found comforting Tara soothing. It was nice to have someone accept his help without assuming he was up to the worst for once. While Tara didn't seem to have visions or wax nostalgic over stars, Spike could picture Dru being very much like this if Dru had been allowed to live a normal life. The possibility gave Spike all the more reason to feel protective of Glinda. No, mate, can't keep callin' her that,' he thought, that name don't quite fit anymore.' Tara, not just the girl he could label good witch now, was a person with many facets who needed to be respected, in Spike's opinion.  



	3. When She Was Wrong 3

Note: I owe a huge debt of thanks to my beta-reader, Linne, this wouldn't be going half as quickly as it is w/out her. Second, this is going to be a Tara/Spike. Yes, I know the canon. Tara is gay, but in my world, she's bi because I say so-this is my playground. For those who didn't read the first warning, this is not a Buffy or Willow friendly story. It's just started, but I don't plan to make life easy for the deluded duo. Most of the time, I just loved Buffy, but season six Buffy was a human being I grew to loathe.   
  
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer doesn't belong to me or I'd be making piles of money. It's the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, FOX, and anyone else who legally owns a piece of it. I'm sad it doesn't belong to me, but I promise to put the toys away neatly and turn the lights out when I'm done.   
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
  
The Magic Box was hopping for a Tuesday afternoon, not that Anya or Giles minded. For a time, Giles considered going home to England, but he couldn't bear to leave Buffy after all she'd been through. When Tara, the one stabilizing influence, left the Summers' home, his resolve to leave was completely burned away. Besides, Travers made it clear things were going to be worse. Ancient prophecies were often confusing, and Buffy already reforged many garbled verses into a new metal. She was certainly emotionally stronger last year facing Glory, but Giles believed time would help. Still, things were very different, and Buffy Summers walked in shadows Giles couldn't begin to comprehend. On the flip side, Anya couldn't help but comment on the Slayer's mentality which irritated Giles past reason. Tact was not her forte.   
  
Anya, must you bury yourself in those silly bridal magazines when there's a rather large crowd about? Giles asked, I cannot be expected to keep up with all these customers on my own.  
  
Anya looked up from the latest issue of Bride Magazine and asked, Did you say something? Oh wait, is this one of those times when I'm supposed to pay attention to you? I told you to hire a temp, Giles, this wedding is time consuming; it's forcing Xander to eat massive quantities of Doritos and Twinkies. Sometimes together. Oh, I know! Call Willow or Tara. They're good with people and useful because they don't require monetary compensation for doing our jobs.  
  
ANYA! It's..it's... Giles spluttered.   
  
It's what? Unacceptable to use our friends? Why? Buffy uses us all the time Giles, and we don't get paid to slay. If it's Willow, and you don't want her around the heavy magics, fine, I'll call Tara.  
  
My God, woman! Oh, do be quiet for a moment, and put that bloody magazine in your purse or I'll be forced to do something drastic, he snapped back at her, I'll--I'll buy you that rabbit shaped tea pot for your wedding gift! This very minute, Anya Emmanuella Whatever You Call Yourself Jenkins, I will march out that door and purchase the offensive item and have it wrapped for your wedding.  
  
Horror crossed Anya's features, OKAY! But if I don't have time to look through this magazine at some point today, I'm sure my bridesmaids will look like hell, Rupert Giles, and it will be your fault. I'll have to settle on something tacky. Buffy will kill me and then Xander will mourn, but you'll be happy knowing I helped you with a few customers. Customers, might I add, who are too stupid to know that slug candles are anything but sexy, Anya's voice rose dramatically as she turned toward the sales floor only to find it empty, AHH!! Look what you did, Giles, you made the people who give me money leave! Silent partner, huh!  
  
Giles stared at the woman in amazement, Me? I see, then you never raised your voice--  
  
Not one more word, not one. I am going to choose dresses for the girls. With a stomp of her foot, Anya grabbed her magazine and sat at the recently empty table. Every now and then she stopped to glare at Giles, but he took the high road and ignored her. In many ways, staying made things more difficult, but the hardest part for Giles was watching their little family crumble. With Anya and Xander focused on their nuptials, their distraction couldn't really be blamed or helped. Willow, on the other hand, was slipping away from all of them rather quickly, and Giles wasn't certain how to help. Buffy? She was so closed off from him-distant. His charge was always good at hiding her true feelings, but her lack of connection with the people around here felt so unlike her. It was disturbing.  
  
Yet, he found Tara's phone call more distressing than Buffy's distance, and he supposed it was part of why he kept snapping at Anya. She and Spike wanted to meet with them later in the day, but he couldn't understand why Tara would choose to spend time with Spike. He offered to call Buffy for the meeting, but Tara's adamant stand against it was enough to stop Giles. All Tara would disclose is that the matter was of grave importance to all of them, and it might mean more than a little research. She also made it known Willow was to be kept as far from this meeting as humanly possible. As the day ticked away, Giles felt more nervous while considering the possibilities, but he refrained from discussing the call with Anya.  
  
The afternoon bled into twilight; Giles and Anya busied themselves with closing shop. Neither noticed the door open since each was lost in thoughts of personal problems. When Spike cleared his throat, the shopkeepers jumped simultaneously.  
  
Giles groused, Don't sneak up on us like that, and don't stand in the doorway. Come in or go, but you're blocking the way for legitimate customers.  
  
Customers, Rupes? Looked like you and Demon-girl were closing up shop a bit early to me. Tara an' me are the customers anyway...sort of. You already knew that, Spike sniped back at Giles.  
  
Tara, do come in, but what on earth are you doing with him? You know, we've all missed you terribly, Giles said as soon as he saw the young witch, Spike, you could've at least held the door for her.  
  
In case you hadn't noticed, Watcher, she practically shoved me in here. Not enough sun to do any damage, but it's nice to know someone doesn't want me in an ashcan.   
  
This wouldn't be a good night to chat with Mr. Giles if the two men couldn't stop nitpicking, Tara thought. Maybe it was best to get to the point. Spike? Stop, please, she asked the battered vampire, Giles, we need to..uhhh...talk about a lot of things. Anya, I need your help too if that's okay, but I'm guessing Giles told you we were coming.  
  
Yes, of course I'll help, Tara, you're easy to be nice to because you're nice to everyone unlike some people, Anya answered scowling away at Giles, even though it's an imposition and ruins any chances I have of finding a decent bridesmaid dress for Buffy, I'll be happy to help you. By the way, Giles neglected to inform me you'd be here.  
  
Tara found it difficult not to laugh at this speech, but who knew what Anya would do if she so much as smiled? It was bad enough persuading Spike to come to The Magic Box, a job that had taken all day, and Spike only agreed on the condition that his relationship with Buffy remained a secret. As for the resident wedding planner, Tara wouldn't dream of hurting her feelings or poking fun. Truthfully, Anya would also provide a second buffer between Giles and Spike, and she couldn't risk offending the other woman who might also be able to offer some information.  
  
Thanks, Anya, the witch smiled brightly, I'm sorry to interrupt your planning, but maybe I can make it up to you and help with some of it.  
  
Xander's fiance quickly turned on Giles, See? Manners! That's all you had to do earlier was say please and apologize for being rude. Tara is obviously the better example of human customs and niceties in this little group.  
  
Rude? You little guttersnipe--  
  
Alright! Enough already. Tara, why do we need them? We coulda' just nicked the books and gotten out right quick if you let me do it my way, Spike interjected.  
  
Sighing, Tara looked at the three unlikely potential allies in her cause, but now was as good a time as any to start talking, I need help, Mr. Giles, with research. Anya, you've been around a long time, I need you to try and remember anyone else like..., Tara didn't want to say this part, B-b-buffy. Brought back like she was, I mean, a slayer specifically. Spike, I swear I won't let anything happen to you, but you're helping means telling him what you can, she said pointing at Rupert Giles.   
  
Anya, looking like a cat on a fishing boat, smiled and happily said, This isn't work! I love sharing tales of Vengeance Demon Days. It's nice to know that someone wants to hear about my past without using the information just to kill things. You're not killing anything, right?  
  
Tara shook her head, Not that I know of.  
  
Tara, what seems to be the trouble? It occurs to me this is even more important than you made it sound, Giles said.   
  
Not wanting to give all the details to Giles, Tara explained that Buffy came to her searching for answers. While nothing in Tara's spell casting indicated there was anything wrong, other signs forced her to admit something wasn't right. Since much of this was Spike's story to tell, she thought it best the chip part came from him. Even Anya listened with rapt attention, but telling a Watcher his Slayer was a bit off seemed to pale in comparison to Willow's odd behavior this morning. Neither Giles nor Anya was prepared for that story, and both appeared worried, a little shocked, and even somewhat afraid for Tara. She appreciated their words of support. Now for the hard part, she thought.  
  
There's more, Mr. G-giles, you need to know. The reason Buffy thinks something is wrong with her, um, Tara chewed nervously at her lower lip, Spike? It's your turn.  
  
Well, Rupes, Buffy an' me got ourselves in a bit of a spat. She hit me, I hit her, but chip didn't fire. Afterwards I tried to hurt someone else, and it was working just fine. Now, before you get ready to stake me--  
  
What? Why didn't she tell me herself? Spike, Giles raged, if you harmed her in any way--  
  
Watcher, listen to me--  
  
No, I suggest you listen this instant. If Buffy has so much as a hangnail after your little spat' last night, I'll make what Angelus did to me look like Christmas morning for the kiddies by the time you and I are done, Giles stated in a quiet and sinister voice.  
  
Tara ran to stand between the two men, Stop it. Now. There's more to the story, Mr. Giles, but you're not helping anyone, including Buffy. We need to research Willow's spell, and I'll say this only once, Spike hasn't harmed Buffy or anyone else in a long time, remember that.  
  
Oh Tara, don't be naive. He says he's in love with Buffy, but he'll hurt her the first chance he gets, Giles curtly voiced.  
  
He already had that chance, Mr. Giles, he didn't take it, Tara stated.  
  
This is my part, pet, I'll tell the rest...just stay, kay? Rupert, there's no easy way to say this, but your Slayer and me have been a lot closer lately, Giles eyes widened and Tara stepped near Spike, We do some talking, yelling, and fighting, and she confides in me. Still, she says one bit to me an' another to your lot-lies. Not just about important stuff anymore. Though I guess that's bad enough. She remembers a little piece of heaven, Watcher, I think she wants it back. I'll help if I can. At least she's not in jail, Rupes, saw that on the telly this morning.   
  
We saw the reports as well, and Buffy called. She made no mention of seeing you last night even when I asked her. Obviously, she has taken to lying.   
  
There you are then, mate, maybe she'll talk to you about the rest of it, Spike replied.  
  
Giles queried, There's more?  
  
None of it's my place to tell, Spike answered.  
  
You think you can walk in here, give me half truths regarding my Slayer and expect me to help? The threatening tone in Giles' voice belonged to a man he considered his past, Ripper.  
  
Mr. Giles, please, Tara intervened. She didn't want anyone hurt, but she really hated the idea of Giles staking Spike when Buffy herself wasn't the only injured party in that non-relationship. She hadn't encouraged Spike to discuss the intimate nature of his affair with the Slayer, and she glad she hadn't. Tara just wanted to leave. She could hope Giles would understand, but his anger radiated in waves prompting her to take a more protective stance regarding her friend, Spike, go ahead.  
  
As the vampire told of Buffy's brutal beating, Tara felt tears well in her eyes and tried blinking them away. His words were laced in regret and truth, I thought I could help her, Watcher, I was so very wrong... I don't think she wants help. Giles would simply think Spike was beaten because Buffy didn't want to be stopped from confessing to murder. At least that was evidence Buffy was willing to throw her life away.  
  
Giles continued to stare angrily at Spike, You still haven't explained why you're with him,Tara, what is your role in this?  
  
I found Spike in the alley last night. He came home with me, and he's going to stay with me until things are settled. Meaning, there will be no stakings while anyone sleeps, Tara did her best to sound calm and determined.  
  
  
How wonderful!, Giles voice dripped in sarcasm, You can be certain we will speak more of this later. I need to know the exact components of Willow's spell, and I'll call you as soon as I have information, Tara. I also need to know what spells you did to check Buffy's status, Giles resorted to a businesslike tone. Spike, if you've anything further to share, do let me know. Good night.  
  
Anya, on the other hand, let the incidents between the vampire and Slayer wash over her. She also suspected there was a lot more to their story, I'll see if D'Hoffryn knows anyone who could help. He's got an excellent reputation and contacts. Spike tried to hide a smirk when Tara offered her thanks as Giles shuddered. It was definite the research expert wanted little to do with Anya's ex-boss.  
  
Walking outside to Tara's car, Spike watched the young woman, once more amazed by her strength and determination. Wonder what she'd like.... Bet I could find her a nice gift to thank her for her troubles,' he reflected, she'd take it too. This girl would accept a gift with a smile.' Spike shook his head. No, he was not getting soft, but the more time he spent with Tara, the more he liked her and understood Willow's passion. Breaking the quiet, he finally spoke, Kitten, you hungry? I could take you to dinner if you like.  
  
Um..thank you, Spike, the surprised woman answered, that sounds really nice.  
  
  
__________________________________________________________   
  
Hello, you've reached Xander and Anya. We're out making money, having orgasms or listening to Xander's friends whine, please leave a message after the annoying beep, damn machine.  
  
Anya, honey, it's me? If you're there, please pick up the phone, and I thought we talked about the answering machine this morning, Xander said to the empty apartment, okay, you're still at the shop I'm guessing. Willow called and said she needs my help tonight. Don't wait to eat, and if you want to come over too, gimme a call. And don't forget to change the away message, Ahn.   
  
Why did she always do this shit? At least Cordelia never discussed their sex life or called his friends whiners, scratch that, at least Cordy never talked about their sex life. Not that there'd been much of a sex life with Cordelia Ice Princess Chase. Still, you'd think Anya would remember something about being a human being, and it's not like she hadn't lived around Xander and his friends for the past three years. He sometimes wished she'd just behave like any normal girl. He was tired of catering to his fiance's whims every single time she got a new and even more scatterbrained idea about the wedding. Sure, he loved her, but that didn't mean a big production was necessary to prove it. And what about what he wanted? All Ahn did these days was moon over bridal gowns and complain about seating arrangements at the reception. Oh, inviting her _family_? His parents were never going to buy the circus people excuse!   
  
Traffic was bad, but the plans for the new Sunnydale High School had to be finished and approved which meant staying late and getting caught in rush hour. Boy howdy, would Willow be pissed. Xander shook his head at the unfairness of it all. G-man was okay to talk to as stuffy, old, and cranky British guys went, but Xander sometimes felt like he should be sporting breast implants and a pink party dress. Alice in Wonderland style. Wait, did Alice even have breasts? Suddenly, the low gas light on the dash went off, and Xander groaned contemplating the expense of another full tank of gas. Stupid OPEC. Hey, I know what OPEC is, cool,' he told himself as he pulled into the nearest gas station. He quickly filled the tank and walked into the store to pay, but there was no one around, weird. he shouted.  
  
Wanna play? a voice whispered just as the blow smashed into Xander Harris' head. Days on the Hellmouth just keep getting better.   
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
Xander? I'm home, and I brought chocolate, called Anya hoping she was in time to change the away message on their answering machine. She forgot all about it before leaving for work that morning. Giles was in such a bad mood by the time Tara and Spike left, she felt obligated to stick around and pretend to be interested in his research. To make up for the late hour, she picked up a bottle of domestic wine and some dark chocolates by that over-priced European company with the frou-frou name. Xander adored their candy, and Anya wasn't in the mood to listen to him gripe. Chocolate was always good for soothing the savage Xander Harris. There's a delicious idea, Xander in a Tarzan loincloth-savage is good,' she told herself.  
  
Silence answered. Where could he be this late? The Slayer, of course, she probably needed back-up, and Xander ran off to help because heaven knows killing things is more important than wedding plans. Fine, he could run all over town and she'd just take a hot bath or finish her magazine. Anya wanted green dresses to show off Buffy's eyes and Willow's hair. Dawn would look adorable in burlap. All that was left was to find the right shade of green and best style for the girls. Truthfully, Anya discovered she liked giving people gifts, and that meant a dress for Dawn too. Wedding plans were stressful, but even Tara was willing to help much to Anya's surprise. She'd grown fond of Willow's ex. Tara understood what it was like to watch the Scoobies from the outside. Oh, the gang might tell them they were Scoobies too, but Anya knew Tara never felt like a part of that group anymore than she did. The only one to listen to her or ask her opinion, other than Xander, was Giles. Willow usually rolled her eyes while Buffy stayed polite and detached.   
  
Anya refused to let it bother her, If Xander and his friends needed to play high school forever, that was fine as long as his friends understood he couldn't play hero every single night. She'd find her own human and demon friends. Spike supposedly had a regular group of poker buddies, good, she'd try him next week. Xander might not like it, but Anya had to admit she missed hanging out with demons. They were at least honest about what they wanted, money, food, or sex, and you always knew when one wanted to kill you. As she mused over the idea of cultivating a friendship with Spike, the former demon did a bit of cleaning and organizing. Xander wasn't exactly neat, and she liked keeping things in order. Lately he'd taken to leaving papers scattered on the coffee table.  
  
She glanced through his papers looking for a notebook and pen. Once located, Anya sat with her writing implements and new issue of Bride to decide on dresses. The article Retro Silks Give New Life made her pause. This was it! All she'd wanted and more, and they weren't too pricey at all. Now to find a dress for Dawn. Anya smiled to herself and pictured Buffy and Willow in their grass green gowns. She believed they would both look completely beautiful. Paying for the dresses herself would also serve to please Xander, and show him she was not only interested in making money. She liked to spend it too, especially when spending it on her own wedding.   
  
It was tempting to give Buffy and Willow a call to verify dress sizes. Messages! Thinking of the Slayer and her roommate reminded Anya that she hadn't bothered to check messages, and if Xander or, worse, Xander's boss called, Xander would end up pissed she didn't check. She pushed play on the machine, You have one new message and four saved messages, the electronic voice bleated at her, First new message: Anya, honey, it's me? If you're there, please pick up the phone, and I thought we talked about the answering machine this morning. Okay, you're still at the shop I'm guessing. Willow called and said she needs my help tonight. Don't wait to eat, and if you want to come over too, gimme a call. And don't forget to change the away message, Ahn. Typical. She was right, he was playing Scooby games and getting annoyed over a stupid answering machine.   
  
Anya sighed into the dark living room, Just once, I'd love it if he didn't worry about their feelings more than mine. It was just a joke, damn, I should've taken care of it this morning. Frustrated and lonely, she erased her away message and spoke into the machine again, You've reached Anya and Xander. Please leave a message after the beep, done. He should be happy now. She sulked a bit and walked back to the couch. Not only did Anya not want to play Slayer-fest tonight, she was sick of finding Xander's pocket droppings everywhere. Cleaning always calmed her down because it took her mind off personal problems. The coffee table, still cluttered, was the last spot to clean. That man was just about to push her over the edge with his stupid paperwork, notes, and building plans. When she spied the small piece of stationary, Anya decided she better read it before tossing it in case it was business.  
  


** Wedding Vows  
**

  
How sweet! Finding Xander's rough draft of the vows was an unexpected pleasure. He was planning! Much was written over and scratched out, but Anya couldn't help curiosity and read it anyway. The first line, she felt, was beautiful and so true, Anya, you're more than I could have hoped for or deserved, it was perfect. Even if it was covered in rewrites and ink blots, The fact is, you deserve more than I can give you, again true, and I'll always love you. Writing these vows isn't easy...not when I want to say I'm not ready for any of it. Puzzled, Anya looked over the paper to read Xander's second try, It's so hard to tell someone what they mean to you when you're not even sure yourself. The back was covered in the same ink blobs, rewrites, declarations of love and confusion. The final attempt wasn't long, pierced Anya's heart, and she had to be wrong, Ahn, are we making a mistake? I don't want to hurt you. His vows were filled with uncertainty. They sure didn't say, Hey, let's share our lives together,' she said to herself, What if Xander doesn't want to get married... When was he going to tell me?' Anya felt woozy and slid to the floor. She'd have to call him at his precious Buffy's house or worry herself sick until he returned. Neither prospect worked in her mind. Grabbing her keys, shoes, and the half-written vows, Anya ran out the door instead. 


	4. When She Was Wrong 4

Note: Once again, many thanks to Linne, the Red Pen Goddess, I've taken up much of her time. Yes, I am grateful for her skills and patience. (= Thanks also to those who review-it's more than a little appreciated. While Tara and Spike aren't involved in this portion of the tale, they'll be back in the next installment. That's a promise.  
  
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, FOX, and anyone else who actually owns a legal piece of the show and concept. I'm just borrowing a few of the characters for my dollhouse, and I promise to put them all back the way I found them.  
  
Xander drifted in and out of consciousness. He knew someone, maybe even two someones, moved around him, but he couldn't see anything. A woman giggled relentlessly while a man said in an English accent, You know, he'll thank us for this later. They all will, darling, now hit him again. I'm not fond of the more physical aspects required, but they are necessary this evening. That being said, Xander felt a blow to his lower back, and he slid towards darkness once again. He was vaguely aware of chanting and a sharp tug at his head. His last thoughts were of Anya and sissy hair pullers.  
  
Thank you for your help, Miss Kendall, the contents of the register belong to you, dear, said Ethan Rayne, Just make it look good, and don't eat the victims. No marks but bruises, love. Ethan gathered Xander's hair and stashed it in a bag. One down, three more samples to get. As much as he loathed to admit it, he was going to help Rupert Giles.   
  
Sure thing, Boss, the bubbly Harmony said, After this, I'm heading back to LA. Do you think your friend will help me get a job? Because I could really use the money, Ethan, there's a cute little apartment I'm just dying to have, and I so need new shoes. Mexico didn't turn out too well.  
  
It did for me, pet, don't worry about the job. After all, one good turn deserves another as the saying goes, and you certainly came to my aid, for all her annoying qualities, the vampire had most assuredly been a benefit to Ethan. Following his escape from a psychotic doctor with the Initiative, Ethan had wandered into the market district of a small Mexican town. Exhausted, starving, and bent on revenge, the sorcerer did the one thing he swore he'd never do again-he prayed. Perhaps God did indeed have a sense of humor because his rescue came in the form of Harmony Kendall. She didn't know Ethan, and she should've been more interested in a meal than helping him. Still, she had helped. Harmony carried him to her little underground hovel and even brought him a hot meal. She babbled incessantly about fashion, but listening was a small price to pay compared to dying in a back alley. He finally asked her why she saved him, and her reply was as flaky as French puff pastry, I like your accent.  
  
Soon, they discovered a common link in Sunnydale, but Ethan also discovered a very lonely young woman in the vampire. She seemed to bumble through all of her exploits, and she'd given up hunting because she was simply terrible at it. Harmony even complained about the mess the blood left on her clothes. Through her failures, Ethan saw a reflection of his own-though his were of a much grander scale.   
  
When word passed through the demon communities of a Slayer's death and resurrection, Ethan realized he'd lost much of his anger and bitterness. He actually felt sorry for old Ripper. The few contacts Ethan still had didn't have good news; the information about the resurrection spell couldn't wait, but it must first be confirmed. Centuries earlier another Slayer was brought back, and her own Watcher was forced to kill the creature set loose upon an unsuspecting world. Losing a Slayer is bad enough, but regaining one that may or may not be a monster must be quite unsettling indeed. For once in his life, Ethan Rayne didn't have the desire to harm his former friend. Shaken from reverie, Ethan realized that company was upon himself and Harmony, Come on now, dearest, it's time for us to leave.  
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
  
Shhh, you're fine, Xander, try not to move. It looks like he was mugged, Willow, Buffy stated.  
  
No unusual marks or other oddness?  
  
Not really-unless you count Anya. But she's not here hanging off him, the Slayer joked.  
  
Willow barked with laughter, She's quite the catch, eh? She'll probably name their children after presidents who made it on money. Meet little Andrew Jackson Harris!  
  
Can you imagine what she wants us to wear to the wedding? Buffy asked as she lifted Xander into the SUV, Ugh, we'll have to call her and tell her where to get the car. I guess we should tell her Xander's with us too and he's okay. Do you think she worries?  
  
Anya worry? Well, yeah. I mean, if it affects her sex life or checking account, Willow said and the two women giggled together.  
  
Xander groaned a little, but he could hear every word his friends were saying about Anya. He knew Willow had a hard time accepting his fiance, but Buffy? This was not a welcome revelation. Eventually, he would have to discuss the issue with both of them, and it wasn't like Xander was feeling too great about the impending wedding himself. In truth, he was too afraid of his past to think he could change himself for the better; be the man his father never was. He loved Anya, but marriage was not what he wanted. To hear his friends didn't want to accept her was quite the blow.   
  
As Willow started the car, Xander said in a gravely voice, Where we going, ladies?  
  
Oh my God! Xander, you're awake, for a minute Willow sounded exactly like she had in high school. That funny, yet sweet, mix of innocence and excitement trilled through her voice, What happened? We should get you to the hospital, you know, concussions. I had one, remember? My head felt big, but Oz said it wasn't big at all. It was head sized, like yours. Oh, I'm so glad I found you before anything worse happened.  
  
Will, sweetie, breathe, Buffy directed.  
  
Yeah, I know. I'm just glad he's okay, Willow said, but Xander suddenly heard something oily and dark beneath all the concern. It disappeared before he could even be certain it was there.  
  
How'd you find me? And what the hell hit me? Xander asked. He had vague impressions of the people from the gas station, and there was a familiarity about the voices, but it was nothing more than shadows of memories too shrouded for him to grasp.   
  
It's so weird, Xander, I saw your car at that gas station. There were no lights inside or signs of you outside. So, I stopped, and aren't you lucky I did! Xander, there was a mugger or something there getting in the cash register. Anyway, Willow continued, I'm just glad I was late getting home too.  
  
Buffy appraised Willow, You heard someone there? Willow, you could've been killed if it was a human! Humans use guns when they rob convenience stores, Will, Xander's lucky he didn't get shot.  
  
I didn't see anyone at all though, guys, just heard em tromping out the back door. I was way more worried about Xander then chasing down looters, the witch smiled.  
  
Xander, a little more alert, announced, You do realize we just left a crime scene. You should've called the police. What if someone was there? Like, another victim?  
  
To his amazement, Buffy and Willow laughed. Don't worry, Xander, I called from my cell. If anyone else is there, the police will handle it like they handle everything else. Buffy snickered at Willow's reply.  
  
Did you even check for anyone else? Xander was stunned by the casual attitude his best friends affected.  
  
No, we were worried about you, Buffy answered, but she never really sounded concerned about anything anymore. For weeks, she was sad or angry, but Buffy's tone was different these past few days. It was just icy.  
  
Okay, whatever.... Buffy, shouldn't you be with Dawnie? It's kind of late for her to be alone. How'd you get here anyway? This was too much for Xander. He just wanted to go home and talk with Anya, but Willow continued towards Revello Drive while she and Buffy chatted like always.  
  
Finally, Buffy answered, Patrol-girl as usual. I saw Willow and stopped. As for Dawn, I'm sure she's fine, Xand, everyone tells me to let go some-I'm going to, again Buffy and Willow broke into laughter. It no longer sounded innocent or even happy. Apparently, Willow Rosenberg and Buffy Summers were in the thrall of stupidity or smoking crack, and Xander refrained from saying anything else until they pulled into the Summers' driveway.   
  
Thankfully, Dawn peeked through the living room curtain and waved happily at the three of them while Buffy carried Xander into the house. The carpenter didn't have much in the way of intuition, but the strangeness emanating off Buffy and Willow left trails of fear throughout Xander's intestines. He had the feeling he was climbing up ice-covered slopes in rubber flip-flops. It was the kind of sense you get when you know your world is about to slide from under your feet into a rapidly growing sinkhole. He wanted to believe the knock to his head was responsible for his emotional state, but Xander couldn't discount the quiet fear sneaking its way into his life.  
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
Dawn Summers leaped down the stairs taking three at a time. Whatever was happening, she was going to be a part of the fun! Okay, fun wasn't the best word she could think of, but she hated feeling left out of the loop. Anya had already arrived at the house at least an hour ago looking for Xander, but Dawn said she hadn't seen anyone since she got home from school. She assumed Buffy had to work an extra shift or had already started patrolling, and Willow was just late. Anya offered to stay; Dawn gratefully accepted, and the two women played cards until Anya burst into the tears and hid in the bathroom. Dawn begged her to come and talk. Unfortunately, Anya refused to comply and yelled at the teenager to tell her when Xander got there. There was finally some good news. All three original Scoobies were home.  
  
ANYA! They're here, Dawn shouted, You want me to order pizza now?  
  
Just send Xander upstairs, Anya spat in a shrill voice.  
  
The door opened just as Dawn's feet hit the landing, but she was shocked to see Xander's current state.   
  
Xander! WHAT HAPPENED?  
  
Hey, Dawnster, I don't think anyone in LA heard. You want to repeat that at a louder than crystal shattering decibel, Xander said smiling weakly.  
  
Oh! I'm sorry, the girl replied before screeching, ANYA, XANDER'S HURT! COME DOWNSTAIRS!  
  
Buffy, Willow, and Xander cringed together while Dawn gave them each an apologetic look. Sorry, I'll just go upstairs and knock... you know, politely.  
  
Buffy glared at her younger sibling, Good idea, Dawn, then we can talk about your career as circus ringmaster.  
  
  
  
With the yelling, you know, the loudness, Buffy snapped.  
  
Oh, yeah, that's not very funny, Buffy, your quips are usually much better, Dawn said in all seriousness as she turned to get Anya.  
  
Well, it's a good thing I don't do stand-up, the very annoyed Slayer replied.  
  
Dawn couldn't resist the opening provided by her elder sister to crack, That's for sure, and she ran up the stairs.  
  
Anya's here? Xander, do you know why? Willow asked the injured man.  
  
Xander, not in the mood for conversation simply shook his head and asked if Buffy and Willow would help him to the couch. As they lowered him to the cushions gently, Anya walked into the room. Her eyes and nose were red as roses, and she was sniffling. Obviously, Anya Jenkins spent the better part of her evening crying, but Xander couldn't even begin to guess why. It wasn't like she could've known what was happening to him. In her hand, was a crumpled wad of paper.   
  
Ahn, honey, I'm glad you're here, Xander murmured.  
  
Are you, Xander?  
  
Rattled he answered, Of course, you're the first person I wanted to see.  
  
Anya, accustomed to pain and death, shoved her personal feelings for Xander's safety aside. She was glad he was okay, but she wanted answers. Still, she hated to have this conversation in Buffy's house. She wanted neutral ground to discuss their problems privately, but this would have to do for the moment. Thankfully, Dawn showed a bit of insight and depth for once because she was already downstairs hectoring her sister and Willow into helping her with homework.  
  
I'm glad you're all right, Xander, do you need a doctor? Her voice was stiff, formal and detached much to her fiance's surprise.  
  
Um..Ahn, honey? Is there something wrong? I mean, the last time I got hurt you got the nurse's uniform out and tended my wounds, Xander kidded, You want to go home?  
  
Holding out the paper, Anya summoned her courage and said, I want you to explain this, Alexander Harris, and then I want you to tell me if I need to pack my bags.  
  
The crushed wedding vows, so seemingly insignificant in their tattered condition, held the promise of anger and broken hearts. Xander's heart wrenched because he already knew the answer when he whispered, What is that?  
  
Your vows, Harris. Your! Wedding! Vows! Maybe I should call them your non-wedding vows or do we chalk this up to bad writing skills, Xander, because I really want to know, right now, how long you planned on this game.  
  
Game? There's no game, Ahn.  
  
So you do want to get married? Please explain, Xander, Anya begged, I need to know the truth.  
  
I'm sorry, Anya, I wanted to tell you, the young man cried, I just didn't know how!  
  
Do you know how many times you've had a chance to say something? Hell, I gave you a way out before we defeated Glory! I told you not to ask me to marry you unless you meant it, Anya growled out the words and choked back bitter tears, You tried to tell me? When? When you were planning the rehearsal dinner with your family? When you were picking out a tux? When you were talking with Willow over best woman' duties? When, Xander?! Anya's voice was low and filled with sorrow.  
  
  
  
Stop, just answer me this one question. Do you or do you not want to get married? Anya demanded.  
  
Xander sighed. The guilt and frustration overwhelmed him for a moment, but he finally spoke the words Anya least wanted to hear but most expected, I'm sorry, Anya, I shouldn't have asked you to marry me. We're not ready. I'm afraid.... all the time, oh God, I don't want to be my parents, Ahn... I couldn't tell you, Xander was sobbing wholeheartedly now, and his head continued thump in pain. Please, don't leave, Anya, I need you--  
  
Oh, I see. You need me, but you don't need to be married to me. You need me in your house, in your bed, cooking your food and cleaning up your fucking messes, but you don't need to be married to me!  
  
That's not what I said, Anya, I want to get married someday. Just not now, Xander's voice held a note of pleading.   
  
For a moment, Anya was tempted to relent. Forgive him, take him in her arms, and tell him everything was going to be okay because they had each other. She couldn't help but picture her wedding dress and think of her own wedding vows. Words she'd painstakingly chosen and meant with her soul. Agreeing to marry Xander wasn't a spur of the moment decision for her, but she'd taken that chance on him because Anya loved him with everything she had. From experience, Anya knew that love wasn't always enough, and if Xander had only taken the time to be up front from the beginning, her decision would be different. Anya Jenkins smiled sadly at Xander Harris before walking towards him. She gathered his hands in hers and leaned in to kiss his temple. It was a nurturing gesture-like that of a mother to her child. Xander, I do love you, but we need space. You need to grow up, and I need to think.  



	5. When She Was Wrong 5

Note: Thank you to all who review. It's very much appreciated, and I owe a huge thank you Linne again. Without her, I'd be pulling my hair out trying to fix the things that are right in front of my face.   
  
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is the end all, be all, happy, chewy, center of the Buffyverse. He, along with the nice people at Fox, Mutant Enemy, and anyone else who legally owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer, make all the money for the creation of these characters. I like to play with their toys, but I put them away when I'm done.  
  
The name Vékell was put together after sifting through several Old Norse Dictionaries, and Old Norse names. I hope I have it right.   
  
  
Two weeks passed and still no word from Giles, but Tara wasn't expecting quick results from him. Truth be known, when Tara would stop at the shop or call, Giles indicated more than once he was still incredibly angry with Spike and slightly irritated with her as well. No one spoke to Buffy of the research. Tara knew it was for the best. Spike had done what she asked and avoided the Slayer, thank the Goddess. The hard part would be seeing Buffy at her birthday party this weekend. Not that Tara wouldn't do anything for Dawn, and it was Dawn who'd begged her to be there, but being around Buffy and Willow left Tara's stomach in cold knots. Tara felt at a loss for what to say around Buffy, and she was fearful of Willow. Discussing the situation with Spike helped, and the two of them decided to pretend everything was normal.   
  
Since he'd left her place, Tara found herself a little lonely and jumping at shadows. Last night she woke up at least six times half expecting to find someone hovering over her bed. Even her pushy neighbor upstairs noticed Spike was gone, and that meant Robert was making passes at her whenever he saw her. Fed up, tired, and in the mood for company, she set out from campus to Spike's crypt. Who knew? Maybe Spike's poker buddy, Clem, would be there too. The three of them could have dinner together. Clem was a lot of fun, and hanging out with two demons over and at Willy's place had some real advantages. Willy didn't serve much in the way of food, but the man made an awesome vodka tonic. Spike explained it was because he threatened to have Willy beaten to a gooey paste if he gave Tara any of the cheap stuff. To her delight, Tara discovered vodka, tonic, and lime were delectable in small quantities. Yes, hanging out with the guys sounded like a really good plan.  
  
She pulled her MG into the cemetery and parked near Spike's place. He made it clear she wasn't to come after dark, but sundown wasn't due for another fifteen minutes. It also paid to keep precautions in mind. Tara, raised by hicks who at least had a few basic manners, never barged in on Spike. She knocked only to hear a voice answer, Come in, pet! Bloody hell, Clem, clean up that mess before she gets in here, the witch laughed wondering what the two of them could be up to this time as she opened the door.  
  
Hi, Spike. Clem, what are you doing? asked Tara.  
  
Hey, Tara! We had a poker game last night, and look at the clean sweep we made off with, Clem answered.  
  
Spike growled, Look at the mess made by the clean sweep. You want a kitten, love?  
  
Tara smiled at the frolicking balls of fluff and stood back for a minute. The last thing she needed was another responsibility, but saving a kitten from an untimely death would be a kindness. Plus, she missed Miss Kitty Fantastico.   
  
Sure, Spike, can I choose?   
  
Wouldn't have it any other way, pet, pick, the platinum blonde demon answered, and Tara was struck again by the angelic vision of him. As men went, he had to be the most beautiful she ever met.  
  
Tara picked up each kitten and stroked their fur, played a bit, and admired all of them in turn. But one of the kittens stayed back a bit from the group. With its' sapphire-like eyes, Tara was immediately drawn to it. Here, kitty, come on, she whistled to it, come on, little one, I won't hurt you.  
  
Tara, sweets, that one is a bit on the feisty side. You might want another, Spike advised.  
  
Smiling at Spike she said, He's perfect then. Determination was a gift of Tara Maclay's, and she decided this cat was hers. Lucky for her, she also had a gift for understanding animals. Being raised on a farm had a few perks. Soon, the little kitten, pure white coat shining in the dim crypt light, came haltingly towards her- much to the amazement of Spike and Clem. Neither of the demons had been able to entice that cat from under the chair to the carrier for anything. Here stood Tara, and she had him snuggled and purring in her arms.   
  
You're right amazin'! I've been trying to get that soddin' beast back to the cage for at least half an hour, Tara, how'd you do that, eh? Spike wanted to know.  
  
I guess I don't scare him, Spike, it's not like I want to eat him.  
  
Clem and Spike laughed. The three friends decided a few days ago that the guys wouldn't discuss cat recipes, and Tara would overlook their vile snacking habits.   
  
"All right then, ducks, you gonna name the creature or shall I prepare a sauce?" Spike kidded.  
  
Tara shrieked in mock horror before answering, "You can't pulls names from ether, Spike, I need to think about it," she held the cat at eye level and looked him over, "hmmm, you look like an Edmund."  
  
Clem chortled, "Edmund? For a cat?"  
  
"Edmund the Bastard, Clem, from King Lear," Tara smiled at both demons and the kitten, "he redeemed himself when no one thought it was possible."   
  
Silence hung in the air for a moment until the vampire decided he wanted a change of conversation I was at the Magic Box this morning, Spike said turning towards her, old Rupe's been trying to call you today. Have you been back to the apartment since class?   
  
No, but I had a couple tests to study for, and I wanted to use the art lab. Oh, Clem! Don't let me forget to give you the painting I did for your place. Tara replied pulling her gaze away from her new pet. She worked on the piece all week long, and she felt it turned out pretty well considering her experience with oils was more limited than watercolors. The painting, deep and vibrantly colored, showed a scene at a small table in Willy's bar with Spike and Clem laughing over some joke or other. Willy, in the background, was pouring each of them an English ale. She'd had to get an empty can from Willy because she wanted to make sure the script was just right in the painting, Boddington's English Ale. She didn't know if Spike or Clem actually drank the stuff, but she thought it was a nice touch.  
  
Clem smiled a huge grin, Cool, thanks. I can't wait to see it.  
  
Oi, when am I gettin' me own pretty little picture? Spike wanted to know.  
  
You're welcome, Clem. When you ask, Spike, and did Giles give you any information? Tara inquired.  
  
Redirecting the topic doesn't get you out of handing over the watercolor, you know which one. Watcher told me a little, but it sounded vague. Something about a holy cauldron having the answers. Doesn't mean anything to me, pet, and he said Harris is better. Thought you'd want to know. What in hell happened to the git anyway?  
  
Tara did know which watercolor, but she didn't consider the self-portrait one of her better works. She never liked photos of herself; paintings weren't much better. She'd only done the piece for an assignment. For now, Tara ignored his remark and answered his question, Buffy said he was mugged. Anya was really upset about all of it, and now she's thinking of postponing the wedding. At least, that's what she told me when I saw her a few days ago, Tara wasn't sure why, but she had the feeling Anya was hiding something from everyone. Why couldn't these people just talk to one another?   
  
Anya? Saw her at the store too, love, the chit was right brassed off about something. I don't know what. When Harris walked in to see her, she sent the wanker packing, Spike told her, maybe there's something else to postponing the wedding than worry over the whelp's health.  
  
Tara smiled when Spike's statement mirrored her own thoughts before saying, She hasn't said anything to me. Holy cauldron? I think I've heard of it, Spike, I can't remember where.  
  
Clem broke in, Do you two want food? I'll even head to The Magic Box with you. I can be a buffer, but I'm starving.  
  
Bugger that, Clem, you'll come along for the fun of it. 'Sides, I can't wait to see the look on the old Watcher's face when I bring you to the store. Dinner sounds good-feeling a bit peckish meself.  
  
Tara's voice sounded almost giddy, I was hoping to catch you two for food and drinks. I've got a day off tomorrow. Spike, I wanted to ask you something if it's okay.  
  
Spike's eyes ran over Tara, and she felt her cheeks flame as he said, Sure, ducks, what is it? She would swear the devil could make a woman wearing the stylish gear of an astronaut feel naked.  
  
Are you comfortable here? I mean...it's not my business, but w-whatifyoumovedintomyplacebecauseitseemslikeareallygoodidea?! Tara rushed forward. Her words came out loud and strung together in an almost meaningless garble. She had been lonely, and she wanted someone around she trusted. Plus, she enjoyed Spike's company. He was funny, smart, and he didn't have a problem with her love of cheese grits for breakfast. 'Some traditions die hard,' she reflected, 'guess I'll always be from the south.' Though she was happy she'd lost the accent thanks to speech therapy, there were pieces of southern life Tara loved-especially the food.  
  
Spike and Clem gaped open-mouthed at her. What did you say? Tara, you'd better breathe, Clem told her.  
  
Pet, what? Tara thought she saw a hint of grin play across Spike's lips, Did you ask me to move in with you?  
  
W-well, yes, she replied making her voice sound bold, I hate living alone, Spike, I love the apartment. Not the neighborhood, and I kind of miss having you around.  
  
Why me, Tara?  
  
She pondered the question before answering. Not only was she concerned with Spike's saying no, she didn't want him to be uncomfortable. I've thought a lot about this. Over the past couple weeks, it's been really good to have someone to talk to, Spike... You've been a good friend. I'm also hoping I can return the favor, she stated quietly without actually mentioning Willow or Buffy. Willow was getting pushier with her ex-lover. It was frightening and a little disgusting. Giles, supportive of both girls, didn't want to listen to tales of drunken late night calls, stalker-like behavior, and sometimes inappropriate demands. Spike, on the other hand, listened to the horror stories and sat with her through most of it while offering nothing but a reminder that Tara wasn't in the wrong. While he hadn't actually spoken to Buffy, he did say he'd watched her burst into his crypt several times. True to his word, he kept a good distance and would head to Tara's rather than confront the Slayer. Now that his injuries were healing, he'd been sleeping over at Clem's place during the day rather than risk exposure to Buffy. The three of them seemed to end up at Spike's crypt early every evening, but they were careful to leave before Buffy began her usual rounds.  
  
The answer must have pleased Spike enormously because he beamed, Sounds like a plan, love. Can I bring my furniture? The good stuff I keep in the basement. I'll get rid of the telly and chair if they won't fit.  
  
Tara smiled gently, "You don't have to get rid of your stuff. It'll fit."  
  
Clem offered to help the vampire move, and it was decided between the three of them, the sooner the better. Dinner, The Magic Box, packing and moving were on the agenda. Tara was thrilled to have Spike for a roommate. For whatever reason, she found herself growing fonder of the vampire each day, and Clem was an added bonus.   
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
Anya, depressed and feeling sick, busied herself around the shop while waiting for Tara and Spike. At least Giles bothered to tell her they were coming this time. He wouldn't discuss what he found out, but it was nice to be included on some level. Working out a new merchandising plan kept the shopkeeper busy, and Anya liked the concentration the job required. It gave her focus and relief, and relief was an absolute necessity after the worst night of her life.  
  
It was difficult to grasp that it'd only been two weeks since Xander was injured. While his concussion wasn't serious, he couldn't remember much of what happened, and Anya's first thought had been joy that Xander was alive. Her second thought had been of heartbreak, and she could still see Xander's scrawled wedding vows whenever she closed her eyes. All her planning, worrying, money spent for a wedding that wouldn't happen, was nothing compared to the trashing her heart had taken. If he'd been honest months ago, things might be different now.   
  
When Giles said she was still needed at work, Anya listened and threw herself back into the job. Only in Giles had Anya confided, and he was kind enough to offer his bed while he took the lumpy couch. Her first few days at Giles' place were spent weeping, watching soaps and getting hysterical over little things like spilled coffee. By now, she was certain all of Xander's friends knew what happened. Still, Anya wondered why neither Buffy nor Willow offered any insight or even advice to her. As for Spike and Tara, Anya knew they hadn't been in touch with the Scoobies, and she'd asked Giles to keep his mouth shut. Dawn, thank goodness, either didn't know or was just being kind by not yammering away about the mess. She'd showed up at the shop that afternoon and chattered over the trials and tribulations of ninth grade just like always. Giles finally sent her home before darkness could engulf the town forcing Buffy to come get her younger sister. That would not be good considering the non-Scooby meeting soon to be in progress.   
  
Giles, we're low on rosemary. I'll need to reorder this week, Anya told her partner.  
  
Rosemary? I realize it's used in some basic spells, but we've been selling at least fifty pounds a week out of bulk stock. Perhaps we've got a few customers who are inclined towards the culinary arts, Giles replied, it would be rather nice to believe we have to more to offer the community than occult supplies.   
  
Aromatherapy, it's part of why we make the money we do. When will Tara and Spike get here? I don't want to sit around here all night, she complained, though that's exactly what she was hoping to do.  
  
Oh yes, because you have so many more pressing engagements like eating all of my ice cream, Giles sniped trying to get a rise out of the woman. He grew more distressed over his business partner day by day. She refused to even speak to Xander, and she hid whenever Buffy or Willow came to the apartment because neither women had been very compassionate towards Anya when they did show up at the apartment. The Watcher had to admit it was puzzling-almost heartless of the two girls. He hoped the situation would improve soon.  
  
I told you I'll replace it,   
  
Yes, yes, I believe you did, but you'd best get two pints. With all the confectioneries you've consumed lately, I'm quite surprised you remain as slim as ever, that would surely get her attention.  
  
It's my metabolism. I also take the time to stay in shape, Anya replied her voice flat and vacant. Giles sighed and shook his head.  
  
When the bell over the door announced Spike and Tara's arrival, both Magic Box owners were relieved. It was time to get to business.   
  
Tara, it's good to see you again, Giles said conversationally, Spike, I assume you've no new information for me?  
  
Sorry, Rupes, can't say as I have, Spike answered.  
  
Fine, we'll get to the heart of the matter, Anya, please put up the closed sign, directed Giles just before he shrieked, AHHH! Oh good lord, what is that?  
  
Careful, Watcher, that's my friend and associate, Clem, Spike told the stunned man in front of him, he's a demon, obviously. Losing your touch, mate?  
  
Hi, Mr. Giles, right? Clem inquired.  
  
Giles cleaned his glasses while speaking, are you helping Spike and Tara in this matter?  
  
No, we're just poker buddies. You know how it goes, a few drinks, some hot wings, and a few kittens on the side, Clem stated brightly as he leaned forward to shake the Watcher's hand. To Giles horror, Tara was actually smiling at both creatures, and it seemed Clem and Spike even gave Anya reason to grin.  
  
I see, well, let's get started then. Would you prefer to have a seat in the office while we have our meeting?  
  
No, you go right ahead, with that, Clem stationed himself in a chair with the latest copy of _Cat Fanciers_. Apparently, this month's feature dealt with getting nasty hairball stains out of your carpet and upholstery.  
  
It's all right, Mr. Giles, Tara spoke up, Clem wont breathe a word, and we've got things to do when we're done here. Spike said you had information about a cauldron?  
  
Tara's wisely timed words grabbed Giles' attention, and he was more than happy to focus elsewhere.   
  
I'm not sure what the object is, Tara, but we're looking for answers. I researched the spells, and I don't know if anyone ever tried to resurrect a slayer before Buffy. The Council has no record of it, and Travers was hesitant to discuss the matter. I'm really quite surprised you allowed Willow to go through with this spell, Giles cleared his throat, considering how many cases of resurrecting ordinary humans did go very much wrong.   
  
Watch it! You don't know Red that well, old man, Spike warned, you don't get to blame this on Tara. Do you even recall where you were when Willow was decided to play God? On a plane to England, that's where.  
  
I'm well aware of that fact. As for blame, I'm not blaming anyone. Don't be absurd, but Tara has always been more sensible with magic, Spike. The truth is, I believe you're both correct in saying something is wrong with Buffy. We'll have to tell her soon, you do realize that. It was a statement rather than question. I've found reference to a holy cauldron'. The verses are old and not translated easily, and I will also admit my Scandinavian languages are rusty. Still, let me read what I've found thus far. Chosen, she is. Dead, she was. Returned, to life with more death. The answers lie in the Holy Cauldron.  
  
Holy Cauldron... It sounds so familiar, but I'm not sure, Tara mused. She knew the subject would bother her until she remembered why it was familiar.  
  
Anya, watching the group intently, leaned forward and laughed. It was a desperate and angry cackle as she told them all, You won't know it because it's not an it' in the way you're thinking. It's a being. Vékell, and the name's only a more recent incarnation. Holy Cauldron's not something you'll find, Giles, not unless She wants you to.  
  
What? How do you know this, Anya? demanded Giles.  
  
You should've shown me the books. I was raised with Vikings, Giles, Old Norse is something I just know. You know how old I am. Why bother going over that again? Giles, Vékell uses the name as a joke. Most of what was my language mutated into the Norwegian, Finnish and Swedish people speak now. The name means holy cauldron, and I've heard it was more more common for boys. Still, it wasn't name I'd heard until I met Her. Anyway, the Vékell I knew is older than existence because Vékell watched the universe itself form, Anya explained, She's beyond powerful, Giles, She liked my heritage. We talked a lot about the Baltics, the Vikings, the seas, what a proud people the conquerors were... The first time I met Her, She went by another a name even I couldn't pronounce. That was eight hundred years ago.  
  
You knew about a being of such power and never thought to tell any of us. Anya--  
  
No, Giles, you will not lecture me about this. The last time I saw Vékell was twenty years ago. At a birthday party in New Orleans! She sent me to some far corner of the universe for daring to interrupt some baby's first birthday because Vékell doesn't like vengeance. She likes me, but not vengeance. You can see why our paths didn't cross much. D'Hoffryn hates Her. After the new name was adopted, She gave people a gateway to get a little information about Herself because She likes giving humans mystery. She, or He depending on the whim, changed all the old texts. It suited Her. Vékell blinked, and it as done. That's the only reason you've got the two words holy cauldron in your hands right now, Anya informed him. Why would I tell any of you? I didn't tell anyone I knew Dracula until he showed up on the doorstep. Some of us aren't name-droppers. Besides, it's not like we're talking about some ancient evil bent on destroying the world while stupid boys ask women to marry them!  
  
Tara, Spike and Clem turned to the former demon and openly stared. Giles' gaze softened towards Anya before he asked, You're sure Vékell isn't evil?  
  
Oh yeah, I'm sure of that. Vékell loves a good prank, but evil? No. You remember the miracles at Lourdes? That was Vékell. She did it because it was fun for Her. Fatima? That was Her too. Most sightings of the Virgin Mary are Vékell, Anya told the bewildered group.  
  
Tara asked, how do we talk to this person? We need answers, fast.  
  
Giles broke in, Is this Vékell a god, Anya? Higher power? What?  
  
If you want answers from Her, you might consider lighting a few candles and saying several rosaries, Tara. She used to like it a lot when She was playing at being female. I don't know what She is, Giles. If She's taken a male form, you'll be happy to know Vékell no longer impersonates Satan or Tyr. You know, the Norse God of War. There was a time when She wasn't quite so concerned with stupid humans and their petty lives. She changed. According to Vékell, humans are worth preserving. At this point Anya was getting upset and frustrated. You think Glory had power? Glorificus has nothing on Vékell. Not years, not power, not anything. Vékell comes when Vékell decides, and only if the case is worthy of Her time. Finally done, Anya Jenkins burst into tears, and Tara moved from her seat to comfort the sobbing young woman.  
  
The witch asked, That bad, sweetie?  
  
Xander dumped me. No, I think I dumped Xander. Damn it! Tara, I don't know what happened, but Xander didn't want to get married, Anya spoke through copious tears. Tara comforted her friend while Giles, Spike and Clem watched with sympathy. No one really knew what to say. It would take some time to process the new information about Vékell and Xander.  
  
Giles finally spoke, Tara, would you all mind escorting Anya home? She's staying with me until her circumstances are settled. Tara merely nodded in response.  
  
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Spike watched Tara comfort Anya. He couldn't get over the fact that Tara just knew what people needed from her, and somehow she managed to make Demon-girl feel better. The ponce had done her an ill turn, and Spike wondered if Anya considered going back to the vengeance trade. Maybe she was holding out on Harris, but that immature little prat brought this upon himself, and he certainly didn't deserve Anya. No sympathy was due in that corner.   
  
As Tara assisted the crying woman in Giles' apartment, Spike couldn't help but notice how beautiful the witch was. Mate, you don't need two unattainable women in your life,' he said to himself. Still, he found the more time he spent with the bird, the more time he wanted to spend with her. Buffy, though on his mind constantly, was beginning to pale compared to Tara. The idea that he was comparing Buffy to Tara was alarming. Not that he didn't love the Slayer or like or want what was best for her, he just saw Tara as a person whose life was full because she embraced it completely. Buffy, on the other hand, avoided life's obstacles-unless they were Slayer related. Despite Willow's increased harassment, Tara refused to let herself cower from living. That was a quality Spike could admire in any being. With Tara, Spike felt himself soften, care about others as well as her, and want to be better for himself because she accepted him as better already. He could see that much in her eyes and hear it in her voice. As they came to know each other, Spike was easier simply being himself. Even Clem noticed Spike's fondness and made a point of reminding him Tara was a lesbian.  
  
Still, the simplest gestures were graceful on his new roommate, and Anya's small sleeping form being covered with a blanket was no exception. Tara exuded nurture, warmth, love, and generosity. The fact that her family was filled with bastards made her even more astonishing, Bloody hell, I'm a damn Nancy-boy! This girl doesn't need me.... should tell her I'll stay in the crypt,' Spike thought, but I don't want to.' If Spike were totally honest with himself and Tara, he'd admit he liked the idea of taking care of her because she was receptive to his concern. She didn't treat him like garbage. He also wondered if Buffy would ever let him into her life that way, and would it change his growing feelings for the woman right in front of him? When Tara turned to him and smiled, light emanated from her entire being. Why would anyone risk losing her? Willow was a damn fool.  
__________________________________________________________  
  
Dawn watched TV and munched her popcorn quietly. She was alone. Willow left without saying a word, and Buffy didn't bother coming home from work-again. Whenever Dawn tried speaking with her sister, a wall went up between them, and there were moments Dawn wished Willow had left Buffy in her grave. Now that Buffy was back, she seemed less touchable than in death. Tapping the mute button and wiping her hands, Dawn Summers reached for her journal. For years, diaries were a source of solace, but lately Dawn wrote letters to her mother in them. She knew Joyce was in a better place, but writing to her mom always made Dawn feel a little better. Like someone might be around to listen.  
  
Dear Mom,  
  
Buffy thinks I don't know anything. I'm no little girl, but I am really scared. Willow's just spooky, Mom, she sits in her room and it smells all the time. Incense and herbs, but something nasty under it all. I want Tara. I want Spike too. They talked to me when they were here! Buffy doesn't talk to me. I don't think she really sees me, and sometimes I think Willow sees through me. She'll say things about doing spells with me to discover your origins, Dawnie, but I don't care! I hate them sometimes, Mom, I want you to come back to us. Janice said Buffy gives her the wiggins. She's right. If Tara and Spike were here, at least I know I'd be safe. Do you know what Willow said to me last night? She told she sees before I was here. I'm so afraid the monks' spell is starting to dissolve. Mommy, will I be with you if that happens? I'm just afraid, and I can't tell anyone. Buffy patrols all the time or bitches about Spike. I told her he probably got tired of being treated like crap, and she told me to shut up or she'd make me. Someone's here. I have to go now, but I love you, Mom. I miss you.  
  
Dawn grabbed her journal and ran upstairs at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. If Willow or Buffy walked in, they'd want to know what she was doing. Better just to pretend she'd done nothing but watch cartoons and done her homework this evening. When the doorbell rang, she was startled and wondered who'd be coming over this late. Tara already called and asked if Dawn wanted company, but Buffy said that wasn't a good idea since Dawn had tests in the morning. Her sister also claimed it wouldn't be good for Willow. Maybe Xander decided to visit, but that didn't make sense either. Dawn looked out the window and saw an unfamiliar car in the drive. She raced back downstairs to check the peephole; no one was there. Just the car, but who leaves their car at a strangers' house? A crash came from upstairs and a man's voice clearly said, Oh this is just perfect! All right then, time to get to it, and let's hope the Calvary wasn't alerted.  
  
Fear washed over Dawn, and she ran towards the coat closet to hide. It obviously wasn't a vampire, but human beings weren't above breaking and entering. She hid for at least ten minutes. Gathering her courage, she sped towards the dining room when the sound of feet came rushing down the stairs. There was nowhere to hide in there, so she crawled under the table. The last sound she heard was the front door slamming. Someone didn't care if he was heard or seen. Dawn crawled from beneath the table towards the kitchen to call 911. Just as she reached the phone, the back door swung open to reveal Willow carrying a bag of groceries, Hey, Dawnie, what's up?  
  
SHHH! Willow, somebody might still be upstairs. I'm calling the police, Dawn told the witch, didn't you see the car out front?  
  
No, there's no one there, Willow told the frightened girl, then added, Are you certain you heard someone?  
  
YES! Oh my God, he was upstairs. I heard his voice, Willow, I'm not stupid.  
  
Willow replied, Calm down, Dawnie, let me check, okay? Then we'll decide what to do, Willow turned and left the teen in the kitchen. She had no intention of calling the police; after all, it wasn't like they could actually explain all the weapons lying around in the house. The doors to the bedrooms were open, like always, but a light was on in Willow's bedroom and the bathroom. She was prepared to teleport anyone she ran into if necessary, but she was certain the intruder was already gone. The sisters' rooms appeared untouched. Willow's room was a disaster area. There were pieces of clothing scattered across the floor, and Willow's make-up bag was emptied onto the bed. Drawers and closets were open, but they weren't as messy as Willow expected from a burglar. At first, nothing seemed to be stolen, the mess was made quickly and it appeared fairly focused. Only personal belongings were touched. The jewelry box, once shared by both witches, was emptied, and jewelry was scattered across the dresser. Willow noted an absent locket that belonged to Tara. She'd hidden it in the lining of the box after Tara moved out, and then Willow claimed it was missing. Willow had given it to girlfriend on their first year anniversary, and each side contained a different picture-one of each woman. Other than that, nothing else appeared to have been taken. Someone knew what he wanted. Except the witch didn't believe it was burglary. Quickly, she ran to the bathroom for a cursory search and discovered the Summers' hairbrushes were tossed on the floor. Willow's brush was missing. Someone needed pieces of Willow's life specifically, and that meant a spell.  
  
she shouted downstairs, I need you.  
  
Dawn ran up quickly and asked anxiously, What's wrong?  
  
Willow looked over the girl and tried to sense whether or not she was lying when she questioned, Have you been in my things, Dawnie? I won't be mad, but I want the truth. The older woman's eyes changed to dark briefly, but it was gone before Dawn noticed.  
  
No! Willow, someone was in here, I swear. We need to call the cops, Dawn's eyes widened as she said, or Buffy.  
  
It's okay. I believe you, Willow assured Dawn, Buffy went to find Spike tonight, sweetie, some demony thing. The police can't help us, I mean, how would we explain all the weapons? I doubt social services would ignore that you were here alone when a break-in occurred. The last thing Willow wanted was a nosy social worker to send Dawn off to her father or to a foster home. There was a lot more ground to cover, but Willow's studies produced some surprising results about mystical energy. While Dawn wouldn't ever be able to open the portal to Glory's home again, she was still The Key. Pure in its' essence and extremely powerful. Willow also discovered that she could skim power from Dawn without the girl's knowledge, and it wouldn't harm her in the short term. Prolonged and repeated draining would probably kill her, but Willow needed the magic buffet to boost her spells.   
  
Yeah, but do you think we're safe? Dawn asked.  
  
Absolutely. Come on, let's make some cookies. Dawn, I'm sorry you were scared..., Willow added her best smile as she said, and alone. We'll wait for Buffy together.  
  
Sure, Willow, the teen answered, but she hated the oogly vibe Willow gave off more recently.  
  
  
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Buffy tromped through the graveyard without much thought. She felt dissected most of the time. As though two distinct parts of herself were at war, and the real Buffy was losing no matter what anyone might say. The brief respites from the darkness were fewer and further between. It didn't help that Spike was AWOL, and she was alone again. She'd checked his crypt late each night for the past two weeks, but he was never home which pissed Buffy off completely. On her way to Spike's place tonight, she'd run into at least a dozen vampires and killed them all with ease. It happened in such a blinding fury that Buffy would be hard pressed to deliver the details to Giles.  
  
They surrounded her, quickly, like they'd known exactly where to go, but they must've been fledglings to rush her at once like they did. Not a one of them tried to play with her. It was very much wham, bam, dust again, and Buffy was a little disappointed. Lately, killing gave made her feel more right than anything else. When the first two vamps reached her, they grabbed her arms and tried to hold the Slayer back, but Buffy gained leverage on the nearest headstone. She thrust her legs forward and kicked her body up and over the potential captors whom she killed fast and hard. One stake in each hand, and Buffy Summers wasn't playing either. The words Giles spoke to a very young and inexperienced slayer came back to her, Remember, Buffy, balance is key. As soon as your feet leave the surface, you are a vulnerable target. See to it you know your ground. Well this was ground Buffy knew better than any other.   
  
There was no casual banter during the fight. The remaining vampires hesitated for a split second, but it was enough to give Buffy the time to grab two of them and knock their heads together. The blow was pitiless and cracked their skulls open. Bits of blood-covered brain glistened in the moonlight. A primal need to kill these creatures filled Buffy at the sight of the blood. With two dead and two soon to be dead, Buffy concentrated on the remaining eight. Kicks, blows, and stakes flew in rapid succession. When there was nothing but fine dust surrounding her, Buffy looked at the two surviving vampires crawling below her. They were mewling in pain. The female was even crying and begging. Buffy watched curiously then delivered a neck snapping blow to its' head. The other she dusted. Still, the injured female writhed and groaned in its' misery, but Buffy did nothing. She wondered if it could heal sufficiently to get underground before dawn. She also wondered if vampires ever suffered from brain damage. Inside Buffy's head, the voice she was beginning to think of as The Other pleaded with her to just kill it. Finally, she did and shifted her mindset back to finding Spike.  
  
Stupid vampire, she griped, you so owe me some explanations, Buffy announced as she barged into Spike's crypt.   
  
Oddly enough, Spike's TV and chair were gone. Assuming he'd moved everything to the basement, the Slayer walked towards the back of the mausoleum to climb down the rickety ladder. Jumping to the ground, Buffy was ready to beat the shit out of Spike when she realized she was facing an empty room. Everything was gone. The clothes, candles, bed, and weapons were nowhere to be seen. The only remaining box contained a few pictures, clothes, and old stakes-all belonging to the Slayer. Rage built in her tiny frame, coiling, pounding, and a scream was set loose that echoed throughout Sunnydale's underworld to set the teeth of those most people fear chattering. Buffy Anne Summers would find William the Bloody, and he would give her what she wanted because he had no choice. Evil was to be used. Evil was to be abused, and ultimately, evil was to be destroyed at the whim of its' master.   
  
Deep in the Slayer's mind, a tortured piece of who she was cried for release. She never wanted this, but it was Willow's gift and curse. A little play to be acted, but, like all plays, the ending was predetermined.  
  
__________________________________________________________   
  
  
Spike stood at Tara's door and watched the witch sleep. Endowing her features and hair with silver, moonlight shimmered over her pretty form. She slept with abandon, and it made the vampire smile. Sprawled easily, like a young child, across the entire bad, Tara sighed in her rest. The poor kitten she'd adopted couldn't stay on the bed for fear of being tossed around by his new mistress. Leaning down to stroke the beast, Spike took in the smell of lavender that permeated the room, and it soothed his frayed nerves. He wasn't sure what had woken him, but his first impulse had been to check Tara. Her repose appeared tranquil while Spike kept watch, but when she said aloud, You were borrowed once, a chill twined around his heart. Like Dru, Tara talked in her sleep, and Spike would bet Piccadilly Square her dreams weren't just dreams.   
  
On the surface, Tara gave people the impression of being flat and lifeless. Spike resented that others didn't always see her strength of character and beauty. He'd noticed it the first time Willow brought the woman into Giles' flat. She wasn't all fire and ice like Buffy or perkily cute like Red, but Tara was beautiful. Spike often thought of Degas Dance School when he saw her. Like the girl from the painting who stands quietly looking towards the floor, Tara usually stood apart from the crowd attempting to hide herself, but it only made her grace more apparent. Tara was a warming breeze just before the spring begins. She was the hint and promise of more if you bothered to get to know her, and Spike wanted to know her. After a shared dinner, before toddling off to her bed, Tara had turned to Spike that evening and made a shy and surprising request, Spike, w-would you mind if I painted you? He could still hear her voice-a soft glow punctuating each word. For once, Spike avoided a snappy response or bit of sarcasm and simply acquiesced. Her brilliant smile and shining eyes were more than enough reward, and sitting for Tara would be a pleasure. Oh, he wouldn't be able to talk to her most likely, but he could drink in her presence. His only demand was that he heal up properly before setting his mug to paper, and her response was etched across his heart, You're always beautiful, words spoken with absolute sincerity. Whatever Tara spoke, Tara believed, an endearing quality.  
  
Drawn away from memories of their earlier conversation, Spike noticed the sleeping woman was no longer resting peacefully. Her limbs were jerking, and she'd started frowning. Before the dream could become a full on nightmare, the vampire decided to roust the woman but to no avail. In fact, the more urgent Spike's shaking became, the deeper Tara seemed to fall into her dream.   
  
Come on now, love, wake up for old Spike, he told her, you're scaring the Big Bad here. Tara, s'not nice to scare the thing that should be terrifying you, Spike rambled words and phrases at her. What in soddin' hell are you dreaming about?  
  
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
Tara stood in a desert she'd never seen wearing a dress she'd never owned. Her hair, softly up in an unfamiliar style, was slowly being pulled down by the hot winds surrounding her. She tried to move, to speak, to do anything, but she was forced to stand and see the scene unfold. Three women stood in the distance, and as they came closer, Tara realized one of them was herself and one was Buffy Summers. She didn't recognize the third woman who was best described as primal. The other Tara smiled at her, but neither Buffy nor the woman she circled was aware of the real and frozen Tara. She realized that the Slayer was speaking to both of the other women, and Tara's reflection, it was the only word she could think of, appeared to be answering for the unknown girl. Suddenly, the drama playing before her flattened, and Tara found herself sitting in a movie theater next to herself. It struck her that whatever was happening wasn't a dream, and fear creeped its' way into her stomach.   
  
When the other Tara spoke to her, You were borrowed once. It's why you need to see, understand, remember the Buffy you knew is gone. I know you're confused and tired, but you need to understand, the fear heightened  
  
The seat dropped from beneath her, and Tara screamed as she fell towards a pool of white energy. She realized it was Glory's portal, and her fear escalated to terror. The other Tara continued to speak to her, Death was her gift. Find the urn, Tara, find it. It doesn't matter if it was broken, find it. It's time to see the rest. The world turned to darkness when the portal was sealed, and Tara watched Buffy's body fall to the ground a second time. This time, she also saw Buffy's soul depart, and when Buffy stepped through a doorway between worlds, it was Joyce who greeted her.   
  
Her own voice called to Tara, I'm sorry to do this to you.   
  
Suddenly, Tara Maclay was forced into reliving Buffy's life, up to her death on the tower, in the span of seconds. Every detail, every mundane exercise, every face known to the Slayer, and all that Buffy had ever experienced was now Tara's as well. Angel, The Master, Adam, Willow, Xander, Parker, Riley, Drusilla, Glory, and Spike were all there. Whatever Buffy suffered, Tara did too, and she was certain she'd be insane by the time it was all said and done. Any joy belonging to Buffy was also Tara's to remember at will. Those were the memories she was clinging to for the moment. Just as Buffy jumped from the tower again, Tara was pulled out of the Slayer and told, Vékell deems you worthy. There will be no more tests, Tara woke screaming only to find herself being held by Spike. Through Buffy's memories, Tara knew the Slayer would never love this man; she might respect his fighting skills, but Buffy would never see Spike as anything more than William the Bloody.   
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
Spike held Tara through the remainder of the night. She cried and said she needed to sort out her dream before telling him the details. Right after she'd woken, he'd comforted her and tried to get her to go back to sleep, but she was too edgy. Fearing he was making it worse, Spike decided to leave her alone. When he told her he should let her rest, she shocked the hell out of him as she grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the bed. Oh, Spike was certain Tara only wanted to be held, but he lay beside her mesmerized. He couldn't sleep, didn't want to either, so he contented himself with listening to Tara's finally easy breathing. Her lavender scented linens mixed with her own raspberry like fragrance was a bittersweet reminder of his mother's garden in the spring. Tara even wore an old fashioned white nightgown, virginal, which made him smile. Dru would've called her the lamb for the slaughter, but Spike only thought of those old days with distant fondness. He even wondered how Tara might look in one of the flowing gowns. The corsets, bustles, gloves, and hats; there was something to be said for a little mystery, he believed. While she slept, he contented himself with memories. It was better than worrying when there was nothing to kill or fix.  
  
So many aspects of Tara brought Drusilla, England, and his mum to mind lately. If there was a God, He'd thrown this girl into his path as His own twisted joke. With every motion, act of kindness, or simple gesture from the witch, Spike wanted Tara more for himself. At the same time, he wasn't sure he didn't love Buffy, but he did acknowledge Buffy was a fixation that bordered on insanity. Even if his feelings for her were real, they weren't healthy. Spike didn't delude himself about the dysfunction he and the Slayer shared. Tara was easy to like, but Spike found her someone he wanted to protect and cherish, and that would make her easy to love. His demon, as well as whatever bit of humanity he owned, sensed it happening, and he speculated on whether or not he was capable of loving two humans. Now that would be a nasty little surprise, but as Tara grew brighter for him, Buffy dimmed. The Slayer was all molten rock and steel-passion personified. Still, it was angry passion that couldn't be compared to the softness of the woman next to him. Buffy wasn't the woman he'd loved before she died, but knowing that didn't change that he did have some feelings leftover for her, but what? He knew that loving Tara was probably a bad idea, and it would likely get him kicked out of his new home. Still, he couldn't help what he was beginning to feel. When she turned to him in her sleep, casually tossing her arm across Spike's chest, he heard a little whisper from the woman, At least she wasn't dreaming of Willow. Spike grinned and thought maybe there was hope for him after all.   
  
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Outside the apartment house, three sets of eyes tried to pry into Tara's windows. Ethan Rayne simply marveled at the purity of magic the girl possessed. It seemed the entire house was covered in her aura. Harmony Kendall complained of a broken nail and whined over the loss of her beloved Blondie Bear-she'd sensed him inside. Hidden in the trees, Buffy Summers stood above them; she didn't care about the odd couple below her. Her concern was Spike. He'd get what he deserved soon. Tara, strangely enough, had been in her mind earlier that night, and Buffy sensed power as well. A new power that wouldn't bode well for what she was becoming.  



	6. When She Was Wrong 6

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, FOX TV, UPN, and anyone else I can't think of owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all it's trademarks. I'll put the dolls away and turn off the lights when done.   
  
Note: Thanks go to Linne for her patience and editing abilities-she's one awesome beta reader. Since this is an AU fic, when I'm meandering through some of Spike's memories, I make no mention that he turned his mother because it didn't happen in this little world.  
  
What is it? Willow asked Buffy when the door slammed shut.  
  
The Slayer surveyed the witch, Do you know where Spike is?  
  
You didn't find him, Willow said, Sorry, Buff, I know you wanted to talk to the jerk.  
  
I found him. It's where I found him that might interest you, Willow, Buffy informed her friend, he's with Tara. In her apartment. You'll never believe who else is back in town-Ethan Rayne. He was standing outside Tara's. Don't laugh. He was with Harmony.  
  
Anger simmered under the cool facade Willow presented, Really? Well, here's something that you might find interesting. Someone broke into the house tonight. Someone who's planning a spell. Wanna bet it's Ethan?  
  
Let's call Giles, Buffy said, her voice of reason finally breaking through, he'll want to know, Will.  
  
NO! We take care of this ourselves, Willow's eyes flashed, and the rage rolling off the red head called to the Slayer's worst instincts.  
  
From the stairs, Dawn hid and listened to the conversation which was about to take a turn for the psychotic. She'd already known Willow remembered life pre-Dawn, but her worst fears were vocalized a moment after Willow's admission to Buffy.  
  
Same here, is the monk's spell breaking apart? Where is Dawn anyway? Buffy's voice sounded irritated to the eavesdropping teen.  
  
Sleeping, and I don't have an answer-yet. Don't worry, I will.   
  
Buffy laughed, I'm not really worried anymore, Willow.   
  
Buffy, what if I needed Dawn? Willow rushed ahead, For a spell, and I promise not to hurt her.   
  
Do what you want, the cold voice of the Slayer responded.  
  
Terror gripped Dawn. Buffy didn't sound like Buffy anymore. The teenager's heart raced, and her fingers numbed. Willow had spent most of the evening casting spells, chanting, and searching her computer after she sent Dawn off to bed. Not that the teenager eavesdropped on purpose at first. It was just hard to miss, and the girl had an urge to make a break for Tara's place as quickly as possible. Buffy always complained that her birthdays sucked, and it looked like this year wasn't going to be an exception.  
  
Slow to wake, Tara stretched to loosen her limbs a bit before turning to face Spike. He was awake and smirking at her, Morning, pigeon, rest well?  
  
Yes, thanks.... Did you even sleep?  
  
Not a bit, was the reply, s'okay, not like I need the rest. Tell me bout the dream, Tara, must've been pretty bad for you to be needing the likes of me in your bed.  
  
This wasn't how she wanted to start the morning, but she'd rather get it over with than face persistent, belligerent Spike this early in the day. As she spoke, Spike withdrew into himself. His eyes and features clouded over, and he took on that cocky attitude she'd seen through Buffy's eyes. You told her she made you feel like a man, but you'll never be anything but a monster..., she murmured, and Spike's eyes flashed angrily.  
  
Right then, Tara, Spike snapped, guess I'll be packing up and toddling off to the old lair of the beast again. It's been right good and all, pet--  
  
STOP! You weren't listening to me, Tara insisted, _You_ said you were just a monster, and I felt Buffy agree. Just because Buffy believed that doesn't mean I do, Spike. We're two different people. Are you a monster? Well, yeah.... But you're not _just_ a monster. You've always been more than that, she continued and leaned closer to him to stroke his face, Spike, give me and yourself a little more credit, please. Some of the things you did were horrible, but I've watched you change... Last summer, you didn't have to stay no matter what you'd promised a dead woman.  
  
While she spoke, her hand never left Spike's cheek. She needed him to know that, in her eyes, he was always more than his past actions. Spike took her hand gently, Thank you, pet, for stopping me. I don't always listen when I should.  
  
No kidding? Tara grinned slyly, You mean like the time I told you to stay out of the pudding?  
  
Here now, you've no cause bringing that up, he laughed, S'not my fault Bit doesn't know teaspoons from tablespoons! Besides, shoulda' been tossed out all proper-like.  
  
I told you it was gross! But, no, The Big Bad has to prove me wrong, eat the pudding, and then you spit it all over Xander, Tara shared Spike's laugh over the memory until panic crossed her face, Oh no! Buffy's birthday party! It's tonight. I still have to get her something!  
  
Spike smiled and moved in to place a soft kiss on Tara's cheek, I guess we're going shopping today, love, we'll find something for her. No need to fret over that scrap of a detail. You gonna tell the killjoy bout your dream?  
  
Assuming he meant Mr. Giles, Tara nodded her head. Maybe Anya could help prepare them all for meeting Vékell, and Tara also hoped she'd remember why Holy Cauldron meant something to her. She let the nagging memories slip away and raced for the shower. Her last thought while running for the bathroom was, Spike just kissed me,' and it didn't matter that it was only on her cheek. That Spike kissed her was foreign and welcome in the same breath. She looked in the mirror over the bathroom sink and asked her reflection, When did I start liking Spike? Too bad he didn't-  
  
Hurry up! We need to get moving so I can stop by Willy's first. Bloke owes me a bit o' the dosh, Spike called from the hallway, and Tara cut her own voice off before he could hear her. Surely Spike wasn't interested in her?   
  
Buffy was pissed, and Dawn better be ready to explain some things fast. When the girl didn't answer, Buffy smashed the bedroom door open, Dawn, you told me your homework was done -- Dawn?! The bed was empty, and the window was open.   
  
Willow slunk in behind Buffy and looked around. Where is she?  
  
If I knew that, would I be standing in here braying like a jackass? Inside Buffy's mind, the girl she'd been screamed at what she was becoming to leave Dawnie alone, and that voice was shoved a little further from the surface.  
  
Mornings were hardest for him, and now that his lover had left him, correction, he'd dumped her, mornings were the most horrible time of day. Still, Xander'd had enough with Anya. He was tired of getting the blame for all their problems, and he couldn't understand why she wouldn't just forgive him. The last time he'd spoken to Buffy and Willow about his ex-fiance, they'd both shrugged away the attempted conversation. Willow's only comment had been that Xander might be better off without Anya clinging to him constantly. After Buffy left to patrol, Will had hugged him and told him all would be fine soon. She had a plan to help Buffy, but she refused to fill him in on the details. That was upsetting. Willow had never left him out of her plans entirely, and, in fact, he was the first person with whom she'd discussed the resurrection spell. Not Tara. Maybe that was the beginning of their falling apart. Xander didn't know, but he was sorry to see Willow lose Tara even though he understood why Tara left.   
  
When he thought about the past couple of weeks, Xander realized how little he'd seen either of his friends. Most of his off-time was spent begging Ahn's forgiveness, but Anya repeatedly kicked him out of The Magic Box. When he saw Buffy patrolling two nights ago, she complained that Spike was nowhere to be found. Xander joked, Maybe he's dust in the wind, and Buffy's reply was unsettling, Only when I kill him. Her voice was so serious that Xander almost believed she was ready to kill the bleached wonder, but that was just so...insane. Hell, even Xander was aware of all the help Spike gave them, and he'd been pretty decent last summer with Dawn. For that matter, Spike was decent to him too if Xander was going to be candid with the world today. When Xander questioned Buffy, she abruptly changed the subject and told him to mind his own business. Then the real weirdness happened. Buffy's face contorted and seemed filled with fear. As soon as she tried to speak again, her whole body jerked around to run the other way. He'd tried to run after her, but Buffy stopped almost as soon as she'd started. She said she thought she heard a scream. Nothing new for Sunnydale, but Buffy's face was distant again. Closed and shuttered. Rather than call Giles, Xander convinced himself it was a trick of the light. Buffy was and always would be the protector and friend he loved.  
  
He'd see everyone at the party tonight, and the carpenter assured himself both Buffy and Willow would be themselves. When the phone rang, he rushed for it assuming there was a problem with the site.   
  
  
  
Is Dawn there? demanded Willow.  
  
Good morning to you too, Sunshine, Xander said flippantly, isn't she in school?  
  
Willow sounded irritated, We don't know yet. She's been gone since before we got up!  
  
Don't ya think calling the school would be a good idea? It's crazy, Will, but I hear all the kids go there these days, Willow's snippy attitude was annoying.  
  
Yeah, fine. If she's not there, get over here to help us find her, Xander, Willow demanded rudely.  
  
Before Xander could reply, she hung up the phone. He'd wanted to get to the building site and inspect the roof. The guys had finished it yesterday, but with those showers late last night, Xander wanted to be certain there weren't any problems. It was bad enough that work would be postponed until the ground dried out. Instead, he'd have to help find Dawn.  
  
Dawn had seen the man sneak into Tara's apartment. His car, the same one that was parked at her home the night before, was left running. When he darted back out of the house carrying a small painting, Dawn's curiosity was piqued. With Tara's car gone, Dawn assumed that man hadn't been there to hurt her friend, but that wasn't exactly an answer to the great mystery. What could he possibly want? Fearing the wrath of Buffy and Willow, Dawn turned and walked to school without calling the police. She'd warn Tara later. Unfortunately, she was going to be late for her first class, but if Dawn went, she might be able to avoid detention. Tara and Spike would be at the party, and she'd have to talk with them there. As much as she loved Giles, she wasn't about to trust him with her discoveries or personal terrors.  
  
  
Vékell chose a form that would blend in with the Sunnydale population. It had been years since a human form was necessary, and it was easy to forget the little pleasures humanity had to offer. Vékell resolved to wander as a human more frequently as she flexed her fingers and sniffed curiously at the air. Cinnamon, glossy curls capped her head and framed her elfin face. This time, she chose violet eyes. She'd admired the young Elizabeth Taylor, and her eye color was a favorite of Vékell's.   
  
The idea that Anyanka was now human amused her greatly, but she'd have to set the girl straight. New Orleans was such a short time ago in Vékell's mind. Her understanding of time was not the same as humans. Time and dimensions folded for Vékell. The Powers were still angry, and Vékell would only be forgiven when she agreed to play by the rules set forth centuries past when The Powers realized humans were self-aware. Because of Vékell's indifference to rules, she'd ignored the directive to watch and never intervene. Some humans had called her an angel, others a god, others a demon, but she was something else entirely. The keeper of time, dimensions, the one who gives grace, the one who comforts, the one of wrath, the one who punishes when necessary... All of it and more had Vékell been sometimes because she'd chosen the roles though Keeper of the Gates would always be her true duty. She was still one of the Powers, but her love of human beings and willingness to step in for them made her an outcast. The others considered only Champions worthy of their help or time. Now she was needed because, no matter what, Vékell did have access to all portals even without The Key, and the other Powers could not allow a mere human to learn those secrets.  
  
Tara, gifted and connected, was chosen protector to The Key. The Slayer was no longer fit for the task. In fact, her part was over, and she should've been allowed her rest. Ethan Rayne was a surprise, but Vékell always loved surprises. As long as he didn't try and usurp the power for himself, he would be allowed his fun and games. Willow Rosenberg... She would be Vékell's sworn enemy if the insipid little wretch continued her plans. It would mean Willow's death, but that would be the witch's choice. The Key, Dawn, Vékell reminded herself, looked about nervously and ran from Tara's home. None of these players noticed Vékell for the moment, and the chastised Power would protect Dawn until those chosen for the task were made aware of their duties. The barrier between the witch and child was already in place. Again Vékell stretched and marveled over the sensation. To be human was better than being divine.   
  
The sharp ringing of the phone pierced Willow's thoughts. Xander and Buffy had driven over to the school to look for Dawn while Willow performed a locater spell. Something kept blocking her from finding the girl, and Willow was getting pissed. If Willow believed in cloaking devices, one certainly surrounded Dawn. Frustrated, she decided to answer the phone rather than try the spell again.   
  
Summers' residence, she stated crisply.  
  
We found her, Will, she's at school, Buffy told her friend.  
  
You did? That's great! Is she okay, Buffy? Why'd she take off so early?  
  
She says she wanted to get some extra studying done at the library for her history test, and then she lost track of time. Her teacher let her off with a warning.  
  
Good, tell Xander I'll talk with him later. I'm glad Dawnie's okay, and Willow was relieved. She needed Dawn for her plan to work. Willow looked at her desk and computer. Books and papers covered with crudely drawn symbols and mathematical equations littered her workspace. Willow's theories were sometimes brilliant and frightening simultaneously. She swallowed a bit of cold coffee and grimaced. It was time to get back to work.  
  
For awhile, Willow hoped she wouldn't have to resort to using Dawn's powers. As Buffy grew colder, she realized something was terribly wrong. The friend she remembered from high school was replaced by someone focused almost entirely on killing. Willow had followed Buffy several nights, and she watched the Slayer kill in an almost machine-like state. The brutality of it was sickening. Buffy also took fewer precautions. Two nights ago, the battered carcass of an unrecognizable mass of lacerations and bruises was left in a gazebo in front of the courthouse. Whatever it was, it had a purple tongue-torn out and left at the thing's feet. Willow knew Buffy was still Buffy, but the cruel violence with which she approached slaying wasn't normal. It forced Willow into almost non-stop research, and finally, the answers were coming into focus. She needed Dawn's blood, but it wouldn't matter because when it was all fixed, Dawn would be okay. Actually, Dawn never would've been hurt at all if the plan worked.   
  
Superstring theory, combined with Willow's magic, seemed a potential answer to a prayer. The witch was barely familiar with the physics idea that combined quantum theory and relativity, but she'd known enough to realize magic might help her use what she didn't necessarily comprehend. There were other dimensions. Anya had confirmed that fact long before Dawn came into the picture or Buffy died. What Willow wasn't sure about was time. Could the past be manipulated? That's when she began applying certain principles of math and physics to magic. If particles, lives, worlds, and even histories were drawn out on infinite strings, rather than just small particles as some physicists theorized, then maybe some of the strings were carrying the past. Perhaps time could be shortened, lengthened, or even dissolved through magic. Her ultimate goal was to save Buffy. If Buffy hadn't died, the resurrection spell would never have happened. Unfortunately, the only way to get to those was through The Key.   
  
Willow assumed Dawn's previous form was capable of replenishing itself. It was a justification the witch used to feel better about her intentions. Since blood replenished itself during healing, Willow believed she could take some of the girl's blood to open the gateway to the past, and Dawn would heal naturally. Her only problem? She'd need enough blood to open the gateway back to the present. She could find the past Dawn and take it, but that wouldn't alter the timeline to Willow's liking. Much was riding on her assumptions, but she repeatedly told herself everything would be fine. She would go back and follow Xander and Spike to Doc, and she would kill that miserable creature before returning to the present. If it worked, both Buffy and Dawn would be alive and happy. She and Tara would be together, and maybe Xander and Anya would still break up. A happy thought. Of course, only Willow would remember everything that had happened, and she could live with that. In Willow's most twisted state of mind, she recognized she could potentially kill Dawn. Killing a young mortal, even one created from magic, wasn't going to win back her friends and lover, but she chose to ignore the truth in favor of her own desires.  
  
When Xander returned with Buffy, Willow was genuinely happy to see her friends for the first time in weeks. She watched Buffy trudge upstairs to head back to bed, and Xander mumbled something about checking out the construction site. Willow smiled and reminded Xander not to be late for dinner before whispering she'd pick up the cake. After the party, she planned on finalizing her spell. Originally, she'd hoped the same sort of power she skimmed from Dawn, the teen's energy and essence, could be used to open the necessary doors, but like Spike had said so long ago, ...it's always got to be blood.  
  
Spike had heard Tara's comment in the bathroom unbeknownst to the woman, and it had him walking on air. The girl liked him. Okay, the lesbian girl liked him, but didn't that make her bisexual? Sure thing, he'd go with that one and hope for the best. As the couple searched mall shops for Buffy's present, Spike's attention kept wandering back to the trunk where he kept personal memorabilia. It was the one piece of history he owned never tainted by Dru. His life with her was kept separate from his mortal days and loves. While Drusilla might have carried certain attachments to her own human family, those feelings of warmth did not extend to Spike's loved ones, and Spike had always been certain that Dru would've turned her mother and siblings had Angelus not brutally murdered the family for pleasure.  
  
In the beaten trunk, Spike kept three small oil paintings of his family, a few odds bit of jewelry belonging to his mother, some assorted books, an unused journal, and one Shatoosh shawl. The shawl was in pristine condition and would've been quite the find for any museum specializing in textiles. It was deceptively simple but worth thousands of dollars. Undyed and lacking decorative embroidery, some women would've found it too plain without realizing its' significance or monetary value. Spike was well aware of the fact that customs agents had seized several of the shawls not too long ago due to poaching, and that made his antique all the more valuable. Never once had he considered giving it to any woman. Dru would have lost it; Buffy wouldn't have understood the emotional attachment behind the gift. Now, he pictured Tara wrapped loosely in a shawl so delicate it could pass through a small ring. In fact, Shatoosh shawls were nicknamed ring shawl' though Spike had no idea when the name came about. He could still remember his father leaning over his mother's reading chair to surprise her with the present, and his mother had prized the garment above any other gift she'd ever received. Once she'd gotten older, she said to her to son, I'm saving this for you, William, you must give this to someone who is capable of loving you with all her being. Who knows, dearest, perhaps you shall save it for a time when you have a daughter... Well, that dream of his mother's certainly hadn't come true, but he knew she'd approve of Tara owning the work of art.  
  
Spike? Um..Spike? Tara asked him, and he was pulled away from thoughts and dreams, What do you think of this?  
  
Buffy's not one for floppy hats, kitten, Spike said smiling, I think I've just the idea for her. Reaching for Tara's hand, the vampire led her to the jewelry counter and picked out a silver bracelet. It was a clunky and modern looking bauble that would go well with all the Slayer's enormous boots.   
  
Tara's eyes lit up while exclaiming, That's perfect! It's just so Buffyish.  
  
That, it is, he replied, What say we look at something for you to wear? A knock them all dead on their asses frock?  
  
Spike mentally kicked himself as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Tara's eyes dropped along with her hair to curtain her face, Do I look that bad?  
  
Bad? No! Tara, look at me, Spike pushed her hair from her face and took her chin, You are one of the most beautiful women I've had the pleasure of knowing. Not so hard to hear, eh?  
  
Thanks, Spike, she blushed as she responded, Does anyone alive still say frock?  
  
Spike snorted at that last comment then replied, Gratitude's not necessary. What about the dress, love? I saw a gorgeous number in that specialty shop we passed. All burgundy wine, prettier than blood, Spike described, it'd be bloody perfect on you! Just come see it! Course, you have to know you'll fill it out just right. She blushed again and Spike grinned. He loved making women flush over his compliments, Come on, love, you know you want to look. Be bad and spend my money, ducks, I don't do it often.  
  
Are we both giving Buffy the bracelet or do you want to? Tara segued.  
  
Nope, I got the bint a present weeks ago. A spot of perfume. Smells a mite better than Doublemeat Palace. I'll show it to you when we get home. Tara? Spike was nervous, but he'd wanted to ask since he heard Tara's conversation with herself earlier, You wouldn't want to... oh never mind. I'm being a world class git again.  
  
Wait, what is it?  
  
Spike hemmed around the subject a bit and tried to distract the witch, but she'd have none of it. She again asked him to finish whatever he'd wanted to say. He gathered his courage and finally looked Tara directly in the eyes, I know we can't tonight. Party an' all, but... Oh bloody hell, Tara, I'm just going to ask straight out, Spike took a deep breath, Would you like to go out...on a date? With me, I mean. He cringed and waited for a rejection while cursing himself for probably sounding like that bleeding idiot, Harris. It was an awful thought.   
  
Tara smiled up at Spike and then frowned, W-what about Buffy?  
  
The demon sighed. He should've known that question would come, This isn't about Buffy. I'm trying to move on, and I happen to like you. Do you get that? I. Like. You. Lately, I get the idea you might just feel a bit for me too. Maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part...  
  
Now it was Spike's turn to avoid her gaze as he waited for an answer, I loved Willow for a long time. I'm sorry, Spike, I should've said this yesterday... Willow showed up at my art class and waited until I was alone, Spike stiffened and waited for the blow to fall, She...she told me I belong to her. W-we fought because I had to be truthful. I don't love her anymore. I pity Willow.   
  
Spike tried to contain his glee as she continued, I don't know what my feelings for you are yet, but they're there. So yeah, let's go out and see what happens. Why not start with the party tonight? The others will know sooner or later, and I don't like hiding things, Tara beamed at the thrilled vampire.   
  
You sure you're ready for that? Spike asked.  
  
Tara appeared thoughtful, I don't know... I mean, I guess it's just better to start with things in the open. Buffy and Willow will hate it, but I'm not going to answer to either of them. It's my life to live.   
  
Again Spike thought she'd look stunning in the dress, and the shawl would be the perfect accent. For the first time in months, he felt good about being with another person. As he luxuriated in Tara's smile, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms, and she didn't jerk away or push at him. Instead, she returned the embrace and looked up at him with that shy smile of hers he'd grown to love, and Spike decided to hell with all. This was a girl whose mouth needed to be kissed and often. He was elated when Tara didn't object, and that made exploring the softness of her mouth all the sweeter. It was unlike the bitter pain that always accompanied kissing Buffy. Tara even tasted like the raspberries he could smell whenever she entered a room. Her lips were the smooth velvet of rose petals warmed in the sun, and he pulled her in closer to feel the soft fullness of her breasts. His head was swimming... Before he could forget their purpose at the mall, he pulled away and smiled while saying, We should probably finish up...take this slow too, pet, don't want to rush and scare you.   
  
A security guard watched the couple with envy, and Spike put his arm around Tara possessively, Mine, mate,' he thought as he steered her toward the shop to purchase the dress. Before entering the store, he stopped long enough to switch to game face and give the security guard a scare. Apparently Tara saw his show of bravado, but she laughed good naturedly over the affair and her arm tightened around his waist. The idea that this woman understood he was a monster who was capable of choosing between cruelty and kindness struck Spike as a good omen. Unlike Buffy, she could accept all of him. It was good to be evil.   
  
Behind them, Vékell followed the pair. She'd watched Dawn make it to school safely, then located Tara and Spike. To see Tara falling for a demon was a surprise, but if the girl did fall in love with one of them, better him than another. After all, he too was a chosen protector to The Key. Both protectors had lives with enough despair, and Vékell would make them see what had to be done. Once over, The Key and her guardians would be free to go where they chose. The other Powers had understood Vékell's first choice of protection for Dawn. The vampire, on the other hand, had been a point of contention since before his own existence. In one of the other dimensions, the Slayer survived while all the others were killed. She'd become a deranged and wild creature who barely resembled Buffy Summers. Sadly, that Buffy was also a slave to Glorificus. That place was the worst since Glorificus had won, and Vékell refused to see something equally horrific happen in this reality. This dimension was one of three in which the prophecies remained true to form, and now The Powers needed Vékell to see to it that didn't change. Thankfully, the other two dimensions survived despite Buffy's death. In those lives, The Key and her chosen protectors worked their way through their worlds and waited. Of course, there were also dimensions where none of this mattered because they belonged to worlds without demons or worlds belonging entirely to demons. In fact, most dimensions didn't contain the same people who'd simply made different choices-they were different worlds with different prophecies, religions, and fates. Vékell sighed. Tonight, those who could save The Key would be made aware. The air surrounding the former Power shimmered and folded into itself. She disappeared from where she stood to places unseen.   
  
Harmony was tired. Harmony was angry. Harmony was bored. And Harmony wanted to get the hell out of Sunnydale to forget all about her ex-boyfriend, but Ethan had told her she a necessary element of his spell. She sighed and popped her bubble-gum, whined a little, and then allowed Ethan to place her in the center of his circle. At least he didn't need her blood. That would've been a deal breaker.  
  
Earlier she'd tried to take the watercolor Ethan stole from the bitch who was with Spike, and he'd promised her an unlife filled with misery if she so much as glanced at that painting again. Harmony had only wanted it as a reminder of why she swore to hate Spike forever. Not only was he with a plain looking witch, Blondie Bear was with a human witch. His sick obsession with the Slayer seemed over, but now this? It was too much for Harmony's ego. LA waited, and Ethan had promised her an interview with a lawyer friend of his at some company called Wolfram and Hart. It was supposed to be a high**-**class law firm for demons primarily, and Harmony just wanted some stability. She might have considered a job at the Doublemeat Palace if the place hadn't required those unattractive uniforms. As long as she got paid, she didn't care who she worked for, well, she'd care too much, but she'd have to be careful to avoid Angel and Cordelia. Cordy, like everyone else, betrayed her. That's how Harmony chose to remember her recent past.   
  
All right now, love, you'll need to remain quite still, Ethan spoke, You'll be surrounded by flames. As long as you don't move, they can't hurt you in the least.  
  
Why do you need me anyway? Not that Harmony really cared what happened to that idiot Buffy, but she was curious to know how all the stuff they'd stolen would be used.  
  
It's a simple spell, really, elegant and effective, Ethan instructed with the air of a teacher, You represent the dead, Buffy Summers in this case, and the items around you represent the living fools who cast the resurrection spell.  
  
So... Buffy really was dead?  
  
Quite so.  
  
That's so great, Harmony said enthusiastically, I wish I'd been there to see it! Wait, how'd you get something that belonged to Xander's girlfriend? We didn't steal anything from her place.  
  
Her former boss was quite helpful-that necklace you admired earlier? It was hers. D'Hoffryn and I are old friends, and that's really more than enough information, dear girl, Ethan told the vampire, Truly, silence is required now.  
  
Harmony didn't move even when the smell of fresh blood wafted across the room. She knew Ethan was sprinkling his blood on the edges of outer circle, and the smell was so intoxicating that Harmony wished she'd eaten before Ethan started his spell. When he stopped moving and stood just outside the circle, she heard him yell two words she couldn't understand along with what she thought might be a prayer, Advocare! Incendium! I beseech thee, Osiris, my blood for your truths. A brilliant deep purple flame surrounded the vampire but stayed on the outer edges of the circle. More blood was sprinkled into the flames, and the request repeated in a cycle that seemed to take hours. Had Ethan not explained to Harmony what was about to happen, she would've tried to run and been killed for certain.   
  
The basement room the pair chose as a hiding spot turned black, and the air felt heavy and thick against the skin. Ethan could see nothing but Harmony and the flames when he heard a voice growl through the rolling, viscous air. The pure blackness of the room gave the vampire and flames the illusion that they floated. For a moment, Ethan felt he would fall into nothing as he heard, Ask your questions, mortal, I have little time.  
  
You allowed one to cross, Osiris, the Slayer. She died a mystical death, but was she allowed to return whole?  
  
It is not mine to choose how the dead shall be returned. Only if the dead shall be returned is mine. Your Slayer was whole. She no longer is.  
  
Ethan pondered the answers for a moment, Can she be saved?  
  
You must to speak to the keeper of time. The one who heals to give hope but causes mass confusion.  
  
Who is the keeper of time?  
  
replied Osiris, be sure of your intentions before you seek out that one. One last question, mortal, choose wisely and we are done. Your vampire becomes impatient.  
  
If the Slayer cannot be saved, must she be killed? Ethan kicked himself for that one. He should've asked how to find this Vékell creature.  
  
No. Her power can belong to one who would mold it to a purpose. Strong magics are required, and there is another whose abilities surpass yours. Vékell will not allow either of you to harness the Slayer. Do not trouble me further, human. The air cleared instantly and the flames vanished.   
  
Harmony sat up and rubbed at her stiff neck before turning to ask, Are we done now? I wanna be in LA before tomorrow morning.  
  
Ethan, lost in thoughts of Osiris, ignored Harmony and left the room. Angry and tired, the vampire stood and stomped her feet petulantly. Why did men always forget about her for that blonde slut? FINE! See if I help you ever again, Mr. Big Shot Sorcerer, she shouted at the doorway. After her tantrum, Harmony reluctantly followed after Ethan and hoped she could still get that job.   
  
When she entered the narrow hallway, Ethan stood in rapt concentration. He finally glanced at the vampire and spoke, Your services are no longer required. I thank you, Miss Kendall. You've a new job with Wolfram and Hart awaiting your arrival, the sorcerer smiled and went on, I always keep my promises, love.  
  
Harmony shrieked elatedly before throwing her arms around Ethan. You mean it? OH!! This is so great, Ethan, I can't wait. What's your friend's name? Should I wear a suit? I'll call Daddy tonight. He can always up my credit limit.  
  
Ethan stared at the babbling twit, Your father supports you?  
  
Well, yeah. He said I had to get a job or he'd cut me off from my allowance. A job or college. What vampire goes to college?  
  
Confused Ethan asked, Why do you need his money with a job?  
  
Duh! Who else is going o pay my rent?  
  
Shaking his head at the absurd picture of Harmony, Wanna be Master Vampire, not only allowing her family to live, but actually accepting credit cards and money, Ethan chuckled. She'd been helpful collecting personal items of those damned fools and during the spell. Oddly enough, Ethan Rayne found he'd miss the vapid little blundering mess. Yet, it was probably just as well he didn't show up at Ripper's with her on his arm, and she'd be happier not seeing that Spike character or his witch. Still, she was charming in her own way. What Ethan couldn't understand was how on earth she and William the Bloody had come to know one another. According to Harmony, Spike was fixated on Buffy, and she knew nothing of this Tara Maclay. A pretty thing,' Ethan reflected, too bad her power is well grounded in the natural order... Well, perhaps when this is over I can bend the delectable Miss Rosenberg to my way of thinking.' The magics used at the Summers' house were quite different from any he'd sensed in the past.  
  
The mall scenes played out in Tara's mind more than once. Spike had taken Tara home and made her promise to wait for him. After that, he'd run and jumped into the nearest sewer pipe to be off on some mysterious errand. She had no idea what he could be up to, but he'd left her with several passionate kisses and a request to get herself ready for Buffy's party. If Spike could've been more mystifying, Tara would've liked to see it. Her only hope was that he wasn't heading back to the mall to punch that ogling security guard in the face. He'd certainly threatened it enough times while Tara tried on the dress he'd chosen. The dress was still a huge surprise.  
  
Looking at the garment, Tara realized it resembled the traditional Indian choli top with the capped sleeves, and it was meant to show as much midriff as possible. It also had a long, straight, faux wrap styled skirt. It was made from a beautiful and richly colored silk that reminded her of the pinot noir Mr. Giles kept in his kitchen. The lightly embroidered flowers on the top were done in a fine gold silk, and it must've cost Spike a small fortune. Of course, Spike had made a point of tearing away the price tag before guiding Tara towards a dressing room. The woman working at the shop, most likely the owner, had laughed delightedly at the vampire's demeanor and proclaimed she wished all men were more romantic. Tara was curious to know how Spike could buy such an outfit when he was always demanding money for his services. She'd even heard him make the claim that someone had to keep him in smokes and pints. At the time, she'd shuddered to think that pints meant not only liquor but blood as well. Thinking back to that old Scooby meeting, Tara decided the moment was endearing. Spike's last words before racing towards the nearest manhole cover had been, Get yourself a proper soak, love, I'll be back in more than enough time to escort the lady fair. I've got evil to do first, his eyes had flashed wickedly-almost daring her to say something. It was hard to believe they'd spent all day at Willy's and the mall.  
  
Settling in the fragrant water, Tara was grateful for the spacious tub in the apartment. The owners had kept the original bathroom fixtures in the old Victorian, but one of them moved the tub and sink down to the first floor when the large bathroom was installed. Tara loved the old claw feet. When Edmund hopped from the floor to the sink, she startled a bit and smiled, What are you up to, Ed?   
  
was the only response, but Tara continued their rather one sided conversation.  
  
I know, she replied, you're thinking it too. You're gay! You're not supposed to have feelings for anything male. Well, you're here, right?  
  
Meow, meowoow, said Edmund.  
  
You're pretty loud too, kitty, Tara told the little beast.  
  
Pleased with his mistress or in a mood to look cute, Edmund purred loudly. If cats smiled, this one was chuckling.  
  
I don't know when it started, the young woman confided in the cat, I loved Willow so much, Ed... But I think I started to notice him last summer. Spike wasn't just a vampire anymore. Do you understand?  
  
The cat stretched and promptly slipped from the edge of the sink and into the basin, came the pitiful reply.  
  
Yeah, I guess I did like one other boy besides you, she continued, His name was Tyler, and he was a friend of Donnie's. Whenever Donnie would punch me or call me a stupid cow, Tyler would always stand up for me. Finally, he quit talking to Donnie and only came to see me. He was the only good thing about that damn town. The words sounded bitter and angry. Edmund didn't respond, and Tara whispered softly, When Tyler died, I felt like I'd lost my only friend, and I remember thinking I loved him. ...He was my first kiss. Then there was Emma, and she was my world until high school ended. We just grew apart. Willow? I thought she was my everything...  
  
Edmund jumped back to the sink's edge and purred again before settling into the important business of grooming.  
  
Tara leaned back and sighed, careful to keep her hair out of the water, before speaking again, You know, Edmund? I think everything really is going to be okay, almost on cue the front door slammed.  
  
Assuming Spike was home, Tara called, I'm in here!  
  
The bathroom door swung open and Willow replied, Hi, baby, did ya miss me?  
  
Get out now, Willow, was the angry reply.  
  
So... Buffy tells me the blonde bastard is living here? Don't worry, everything is going to be fine, and none of this will even be a memory, Willow spoke venomously.  
  
I said leave, Willow, we may have to see each other tonight, but you're not welcome here, Tara stated and was relieved to hear her voice sound clear and strong.  
  
Willow stood and leaned against the doorframe for a moment before lowering her head, and Tara could've sworn she'd done it to hide her eyes.   
  
We talk tonight, Tara, you owe me that.  
  
Willow, I don't owe you anything-not anymore. You slapped me yesterday! But it was over before that, Tara told her former lover. Her heart beat rapidly, and she felt light headed, Spike and I will be there for Dawn's sake.  
  
You can't bring him! whining, Willow looked up and Tara shuddered. Like the night of the resurrection spell, Willow's eyes were completely black and filled with an awful power.  
  
Somehow Tara remained steady, I'll bring who I want as my date.  
  
DATE!? Buffy is so going to hear about this! In a fury, Willow grabbed the bathroom door and slammed it, but she did at least leave. Spike would be furious when she told why the bathroom door sported a twelve-inch split in the wood, but Tara promised herself she'd never lie again after that awful fiasco with her family. It was a promise she intended to keep. The front door slammed behind Willow, and Tara felt like she'd won a piece of herself back from the other woman-she refused to spill any more tears over Willow Rosenberg.   
  
Regretfully leaving the warmth of the water, Tara stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in an oversized bath towel. Contemplating her hair, she decided to go for a French twist with a few loose strands to frame her face. It was simple and elegant, much like the dress, and she hoped Spike would like it. Her make-up, light as always, was easy and quick to apply. Surveying her undergarments, she chose a burgundy lace bra and panties that matched the dress perfectly. Hair and face done, Tara walked toward her room to get dressed. The jewel neckline of the top suited Tara's features perfectly, and the straight skirt emphasized her shapely hips. For once, she felt graceful, pretty, and not overbearingly huge. She only wished she had a scarf or wrap to go with it.   
  
When the front door opened again and Spike called out, Pet, you ready? Tara gladly stepped into the living room to show Spike the end results, and his jaw promptly hit the floor, You...you..you're bloody magnificent! His eyes were wide with admiration.  
  
Pleased, Tara blushed and replied, Thank you, Spike, you helped.  
  
Stay right there, Spike ran towards his room, shopping bags in hand, and left Tara to wonder again, Don't come in here, pet, it'll be worth it.  
  
When the bedroom door opened, Spike walked out wearing black chinos, a tight fitting brilliant, cornflower-blue, silk shirt, and his Doc Martins. It was Tara's turn to stare open-mouthed. In his hands were two boxes. One clearly labeled with Buffy's name that was obviously the bottle of perfume he'd shown Tara earlier. The other box was a mystery. Even I clean up right nice, eh?  
  
Tara caught her breath and responded, You're beautiful, Spike.  
  
He grinned in response, Here, I want you to have this, Spike offered the long box to her.  
  
You've done enough for me, Tara told him, but he interrupted.  
  
Please, take it. You're the only one I want to have this, he didn't look her in the eye, and Tara wondered just how many times he'd offered something to Buffy only to be pushed away.  
  
Taking the box, Tara carefully unwrapped the gift and wondered what on earth it could be. Inside, a soft brown shawl lay against gold tissue paper. When Tara picked up the piece of fabric, she realized Spike must've had this in mind when buying her the dress because it would go beautifully. The fabric, light and warm feeling, made Tara think of her textiles course. Spike... I..I can't take this, she stuttered, It's too much.  
  
Spike rushed forward and pulled the girl and wrap close to him, Shhh, sweets, you can and will take it. I knew it would mean something to you. It's been with me for a long time, Tara, it's yours now.  
  
Whose was it? She asked curiously while praying it wasn't stolen from an old victim.  
  
It belonged to me mum, Spike didn't mind telling her about his family, I guess I'm a mite more sentimental than most vamps, love, I'll show you the portraits I saved someday... his voice trailed away. You know, saving scraps of the past doesn't make me human or less evil, Tara.  
  
  
  
Listen, pet, it's time to play our cards. Now, I'm not rushing you or trying to change your mind, and I ain't saying I've changed my mind. Cause I haven't. Do you understand me, Tara, me? This chip keeps me from being evil--   
  
It was Tara's turn to interrupt, No, it doesn't, Spike's eyes narrowed, You've made choices, Spike, and a difference in the lives of people you care about. You have the capacity for doing good or evil..., the witch thought for a moment, When Adam was around, you tore the Scoobies apart with a few well-timed phrases. That was evil. You made up for it later because you started to care about Buffy, remember? It didn't stop with situations that were just Buffy-related. You can still be evil, but you've chosen to try being pretty decent.  
  
For the money, love, Spike had to say.  
  
Tara smiled, Yeah, but how long has it been since you demanded money from anyone?  
  
Rolling his eyes Spike answered through gritted teeth, A long damn time. But I still hurt Buffy-did more damage to her by being with her than she ever did me.  
  
Shaking her head she answered, No, you hurt each other. Quantifying emotional damage isn't possible. I guess we have some things to work out too, Spike, now we have to decide if it's worth it. I trust you, and I believe it is.  
  
Spike smiled and looked the beautiful young woman over, You trust me, he repeated as though saying the words aloud himself would make them absolute.  
  
Tara leaned up to kiss the demon, and he responded eagerly. If they didn't stop, she'd end up out of the dress and tumbled onto the floor with a more than willing Spike. His hands pressed into her back, and he pulled her tighter while seeming to taste every aspect of Tara's mouth. Spike didn't just kiss her. He savored her like a world renowned food critic might savor the best of dishes. Pulling away, she cleared her head and told Spike about Willow's sudden appearance.   
  
For once, Spike held his temper and didn't go rushing out the door for a bit of ass kicking. After Tara finished, he pulled her into him again and whispered that they would be fine. He had plans for Red tonight-chip be damned. With those thoughts in mind, Spike escorted Tara to her car and threw back the top. If Clem was riding with them, they'd need a bit more head room than the MG offered.


	7. When She Was Wrong 7 pt 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no money off this, but I sure am having fun making the dollies do whatever I want. Still, they do belong to Joss Whedon, ME, Fox, and anyone else who's legally a part of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer money making machine.  
  
Note: Many thanks to Linne who is a kind and patient beta-reader, also because she catches the word processor glitch I have going every time it happens. Also, please forgive the slow update. This chapter, along with the last, took some extra time. Linne says people might just kill me if I wait too long with the next chapter. For whatever reason, my page breaks are deleted when I upload to 't know why. I just changed what I use as a page break for now, and I will be fixing previous chapters to make them easier to read.  
  
Okay, I'm trying this again, and thank you to Elizabeth who let me know there was a problem with the upload. (=  
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The house on Revello Drive loomed-a dark monument to evils past and present. For a place chosen to celebrate a birthday party, it seemed gloomy even with all the lights. Giles shuddered away the maudlin thoughts and glanced at the box carrying his gift for Buffy. He wondered if it was a mistake. Perhaps she'd prefer something trivial that didn't remind her of her calling, but it was such a beautiful piece of workmanship. He couldn't bear passing up the chance for his Slayer to own it.   
  
It had been forever since the entire group had gathered in one place. Anya, still angry with Xander, had barely agreed to accompany Giles to the festivities. Unfortunately, she was alsosomewhat bitter over purchasing a gift for the Slayer. No one was really speaking, and this Vékell creature had Giles on edge. He kept waiting for it show up and merrily eviscerate them all. Since only Xander's car was in the drive, he and Anya opted to wait for Tara to show in her little roadster. Hopefully, she'd refrain from bringing Spike, but Willow made it clear to all that this birthday was about fun. Fun included an open invite. How dreadful the night would be, thought Giles, should the party turn into a fiasco on par with Buffy's welcome home celebration years ago.  
  
Rather than sit in silence, Giles decided to make conversation with Anya, So, what did you get Buffy?  
  
A gift card, his reluctant companion replied.  
  
Well, that seems sensible enough, Giles told the fidgeting woman, Did you get it in the mall?  
  
Anya's mumbled response was too muffled to understand.  
  
Pardon? I'm afraid I didn't quite hear you, Anya.  
  
Rather than repeat herself directly, Anya quipped, It's okay. You're getting old now. The hearing goes first.  
  
This was the woman Giles remembered. Full of annoying sarcasm, but even he realized why his business partner was evading the issue, Good grief, woman, you're giving her a gift card from The Magic Box! Of all the tasteless things you've done, I believe this might top the list. Giles could feel her scathing looks even in the darkened car, a good time to retreat, But I suppose I understand the sentiment. It's been rather difficult for you, and I'm impressed you were able to come at all. I'm also glad you did.  
  
Anya took Giles hand in hers, Thanks. The hardest part? I'm not sure I even love Xander, Giles.  
  
Giles clumsily patted her on the shoulder before saying, It's not an easy situation, but you'll make the best decision for you. You know, I'll stand by you no matter what choice you make.  
  
You've been a good friend, along with Tara and Spike which is just weird. But I'm grateful for all the allies I have, the ex-demon said, Speaking of the fluorescent devil, looks like they're here.   
  
Spike parked Tara's car next to the curb, top down despite the chilly weather, and it appeared Tara and Spike had brought their friend Clem. The odd trio were laughing over something when Giles noticed Spike jump from the little convertible to rush around to Tara's side; the vampire actually opened the door for her. How...strange. It wasn't until Giles noticed Tara reach for Spike's arm that an unlikely thought occurred to him, but it made no sense whatsoever. Buffy's Watcher sighed and gathered gifts and cards from his car while Anya jumped from his vehicle to meet up with the new arrivals.   
  
You look gorgeous, Tara, he heard Anya squeal.  
  
Carefully appraising the dark blonde, Giles added, Yes, quite lovely. Her prettiness was actually startling, but even more disconcerting was the fact that Spike had not only noticed the woman, he obviously reveled in her beauty.  
  
Thanks, guys, Tara replied, are we ready?  
  
Anya, candid as usual, groaned, I'd rather have my stomach pumped while being eaten alive, but Giles wouldn't listen to me. So...I guess I'm ready.  
  
Spike and Tara shared a conspiratorial look, Clem snickered. Giles was about to lecture the overly brash young woman who stared at the little group then added, Just hurry up! With that, Anya grabbed Giles by the arm and dragged him to Buffy's front door. The remaining three followed. No one had a chance to ring the bell or knock because Dawn was already standing at the door waiting.   
  
The teenager faked a big smile and ushered the group across the threshold. When Tara and Spike started to enter, she threw herself into Tara's arms and whispered, We have to talk ... help me, she knew Spike would hear as well.  
  
Aloud Dawn made a point of saying, I'm so glad you're here! We've all really missed you, Tara, in the living room, Willow watched and smiled coldly. A least she appeared satisfied with Dawn's performance, but Dawn cringed to see the witch walk over to speak with Tara.  
  
Tara...wow, you really look amazing, Willow told the woman.  
  
Spike answered, Surprised, Red? I wasn't, but my Tara is always amazing. Dawn's eyes widened in disbelief. His Tara? Spike was moving on from Buffy? With Tara? Good for both of them, and the girl grinned at the unlikely, but seemingly happy, couple.  
  
Dawn said, just get in here!  
  
Sure thing, Bit, introductions all around first, Spike responded, Oi, Clem, in here, mate. Whelp, Witch, Niblet, this is Clem.  
  
Clem waved, Nice to meet you. I brought extra snacks.  
  
Xander, who'd been watching Anya from the sidelines, ignored what seemed to be happening between the vampire and Tara gave Clem a genuine welcome, Hey, man, snacky goodness is always welcome here. He promptly offered to help carry the food to the kitchen, Fried pies? Bagel pizza! All right! You can come over anytime. Clem laughed in return, and the two carried the bags out of the living room.   
  
Dawn noticed Anya watching Xander and hugged the former demon.  
  
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Upstairs, Buffy lay quietly on her bed. She'd been ready for hours, and now it was time to face all of them. She no longer felt anything but the urge to kill, eat, sleep or fuck, and hiding that from the people in her life was exhausting. She pretended to be who she had been, all the while dreaming of blood. Rising from the bed, Buffy checked the mirror to make any necessary adjustments to her appearance. It had been days since The Other's tiny and tightened voice spoke, but the Slayer could still hear the occasional whimper. That Buffy was losing whatever hold she had in this world, and the person left would be glad to be rid of the nagging and whining.   
  
There was a time when birthdays were joyous, surprise filled, but this one meant nothing. Buffy would smile as she accepted her presents, but it was Spike she wanted. Anger wound its' way through the Slayer's veins. A deadly elixir of hatred mixed with dark anticipation became her personal communion as she contemplated William the Bloody. She'd use his body one last time, and when he was least prepared, smiling even, she'd rip his head from his neck. Lust for sex and blood warmed her, and the new Buffy Summers raked her fingers through her hair one last time before heading downstairs to greet her guests.  
  
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When Buffy came down the stairs, Spike watched the woman intently. She moved with the stealthy grace of a lioness, and her eyes shone with a predator's need. The demon recognized the hunter's stance. He'd seen it in so many of his own kind; Spike moved closer, his own stance protective, to Tara who was busy chatting with the snack sized one. Power and wrath emanated from Buffy, and Spike had an impulse to grab both his girls and run. Red had been glaring at him from across the room while Clem and old Rupes talked cars. Apparently, Clem was offering Giles a good deal on window tinting, With a car like that, his friend said, you have to protect the leather. Seated in the living room, Xander and Anya sat trying not to look at one another, but at least they weren't arguing.  
  
The Slayer, still moving slowly, descended the last few steps to announce, Birthday Girl's here. Her smiled chilled the vampire more than an arctic breeze would've during his mortal life. Buffy Summers wasn't herself, but Spike didn't believe that was possible. Her scent, still tantalizing, undeniably belonged to the eldest Summers, but her eyes were pools of nothingness. This creature was unlike any Spike had ever encountered.  
  
Tara was the first to stand and approach, Buffy, happy birth--, her words froze. When she backed away, Spike picked up the odor of fear mixed with confusion. His witch sensed it too.  
  
As the others gathered around Buffy, the strange moment passed. It was hugs and near normalcy all around, and it was Dawn who broke the mood, Dinner or presents first? I vote presents!  
  
Willow laughed and tried ruffling the teen's hair, It's not even your birthday, Dawnie, but the girl flinched and glared at Willow.  
  
That's my little sister, gifts first. Let's go for it, Dawn, you can help. Spike watched Dawn regard her sister with a mix of distrust and hope, it was horrible to see.  
  
The Watcher embraced his Slayer, Happy birthday, Buffy, I'm so proud of you.  
  
Thanks, Giles.  
  
Hey, Buffster, called Xander, mucho food and revelry await your command!  
  
Peering from behind the Scoobies, Clem waved, Hi, Buffy, nice to see you again. From the poker game, remember? I brought snacks.  
  
Buffy nodded her thanks and flashed another phony smile, Spike, good to see you-finally.   
  
Her words weren't lost on the vampire. Again he moved closer to Tara's side, Been looking for me then, Slayer? I've been a bit busy.  
  
Spike's living with me, Buffy, Tara took the direct approach, I'm sure Willow told you.  
  
Yeah, right, that funny little half-grin on Buffy's face that indicated she was humoring the crazy people, Saw you together myself. So, you're dating now? You might want to watch that, Tara, he's rough on a girl. She smirked and didn't take her eyes off Spike while speaking.  
  
Giles blanched, Clem gave Spike a thumbs up in show of support, and Xander exclaimed, Gimme a huh?  
  
Spike was about to tell the lot of them to go to hell when Anya interrupted, Oh, please, it's obvious they like each other. Spike's wearing a dress belt with chinos, and it's not like you really wanted him, Buffy, you told him to move on. He did. Guess that makes Tara bi. Anya headed toward the kitchen, Anyone else want some chips?   
  
Now it was Willow's turn to flinch, presumably over Anya's brief yet accurate speech, while Buffy glowered at the couple in front of her.  
  
Reaching for Spike's hand, Tara simply said, We're good for each other. The vampire looked stunned and grateful.   
  
Giles snorted and shot back venomously, Of course, Tara, until he's bored with you and decides you'd make a better meal. Well, at least you'll have to wait until his chip stops working!  
  
Watch it, mate, Spike growled.  
  
Or you'll what? Insult me into a screaming death of pain?  
  
The room filled with bickering and yelling while Clem and Dawn watched from the sidelines. Curiously, Buffy did nothing but smile blankly.  
  
Finally, it was Dawn who couldn't take the insanity, SHUT UP! Jeeze! Even my friends and I don't act this immature.  
  
Buffy turned to Willow, who'd been screaming at Tara, and said, We can talk about it later, Will, let's just open gifts.  
  
Giles nodded curtly and followed Xander into the brightly lit and magically decorated living room. Willow had outdone herself. Softly glowing and ethereal roses graced every surface, and candlelight seemed to glimmer from each corner, but there were no candles present. Buffy's presents were casually piled on the coffee table. She opened Dawn's first and thanked her sibling, Great CD, Dawn, but she had no real interest in music anymore. Willow's gift, a protection charm, was at least useful the Slayer reflected.   
  
She glanced at the remaining gifts when Anya tossed a card to Buffy, Here, it's a gift certificate from The Magic Box and complimentary discount since you're like family.  
  
Nice, Ahn, Xander commentated, a sardonic tone thickly spread over the words like peanut butter clinging to white bread, furthering your own profit. Very classy.  
  
I didn't have time for shopping, Harris, between returning wedding gifts and crying fits. Xander blushed at that comment.  
  
It's great, Anya, Buffy told the woman,   
  
Xander's present, a gift card from The Gap, would've sent the old Buffy Summers into a squealing fit of joy, but this Buffy merely thanked the dark eyed young man.  
  
Three gifts remained on the table. Buffy opened the bracelet from Tara first and sounded another wooden thank you. Spike's gift, an expensive perfume (probably stolen, she thought) that she'd recalled loving a lifetime ago, appeared to mock her and provoke her anger. Whatever leftover sentiment she'd felt buried had moved the Slayer to save Giles' present for last.  
  
Giles rushed, If you don't like it, Buffy, well, uh, I will understand. But, you see, it's been in my family for centuries. I had Quentin ship it from my home.  
  
The ninja-to blade flashed wickedly in the shimmering light, and the petite blonde smiled her first real smile of the evening, It's perfect.   
  
With that, she quickly jumped from her seat and sent the coffee table flying toward the hallway as she pivoted 90 degrees on her left foot and followed through with a brutal and deadly kick with her right leg. Table demolished, Buffy leapt front and center, Who's going to play first?  
  
Get down, Spike shouted at Giles who was near the window with Anya and Xander, Bloody hell! Dawn, Tara, with me now, the two women really didn't any further encouragement.  
  
Xander, Anya, Giles and Willow stood still as Buffy advanced. Anya, closest to the Slayer's target, was picked up and tossed through the front window. The young woman spun before hitting the glass. Dawn screamed in horror, and Spike turned to see what was happening. The living room was a tangle of limbs-Scoobies trying to get away from Buffy. Just as it was happening, the vampire realized it was Clem she was after. The one demon who, to Spike's knowledge, had never actually harmed a living soul though he scared more than his fair share. Giles and Xander sidestepped to the open window and watched in terror. Willow's face was suddenly covered in blood as Buffy grasped her new blade and pierced Clem's side. His eyes widened, and the demon screamed in pain. Buffy laughed darkly while everyone else simply ran.  
  
Buffy jumped and slammed her fist into Willow's face. Now the blood on the witch was her own, but it didn't stop there. As Willow cowered on the floor for a moment, the Slayer landed a solid kick to the young woman sending her crashing through the stair rails. As the redhead's eyes glazed in pain and fear, Buffy laughed darkly, Your fault, Will, should'a left it alone. Let her stay in heaven.   
  
Willow gagged on the blood rolling down her throat then screamed one word.  
  
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Outside, Ethan Rayne saw Anyanka fly through the window. D'Hoffryn would get a laugh over this story. When Spike, Tara, and Dawn burst through the front door, the unholy screams began to fade, and a flash of magic jolted Ethan to his knees. A woman's voice shouted, as Ripper, alongside the Slayer's boy, hurried quickly to help Anya. Now was as good a time as any.  
  
Striding across the street Ethan called, Mate, let me help with that.  
  
Giles and Xander looked up and each man gasped, but Giles was accusing and fiercely angry, This is your doing, all hell broke loose again as Giles tackled Ethan Rayne and began pummeling the sorcerer's face.  
  
Ripper! STOP! I'm trying to help you.  
  
What have you done to my Slayer?  
  
Ethan choked out the words, the man gagged and coughed, it's your bloody witch's doing, not mine-that damned resurrection spell!  
  
Giles loosened his grip, and Xander, carrying Anya, told the two men, We have to find someplace safe-we have to leave now!  
  
Willow, her voice somewhat weak sounding, called from the house, I stopped her!  
  
Tara looked at Spike. He quickly ran to check, closely followed by Dawn. When the rest of the group decided to reenter the house too, Spike saw that Buffy had stopped, unable to move or speak, only because of Willow's spells. The witch had a minor injury, but no one moved to help her, all were too stunned by the sight of Buffy.  
  
Giles spoke to Ethan, Talk now! I am in a mood to be disposed of you quickly.  
  
All right then, old friend, your Slayer not herself these days? She's not all that alone, Ripper, it's happened before-Travers can give you all the dirty little details. Ethan laughed lightly, Ask him about Isabella Mazzioni, mate, ask him about World War II and John Travers, real treat that story will be I'm sure.  
  
Tell me! Giles spoke, his voice tired and angry, I feel like we're running out of time, man, just tell me.  
  
Sniffing, Ethan answered, You never had time, Ripper, she never did either. Did some digging for you, and that girl isn't your girl anymore.  
  
Spike, who'd been checking Clem for signs of life, spat, You're lying. She's Buffy-I'd know her anywhere.  
  
She was Buffy, demon, not so much now. I talked to Osiris, witch, Willow looked stunned, He confirmed it too, but Travers has the real answers. Always has. The Slayer came back wrong, and you bumbling idiots are responsible-never should've been allowed, Ethan wheezed.  
  
Tight lipped Giles replied, The Council never said anything. What have they to do with this?  
  
Travers, Ripper! Are you thick, man? Call him! I'm trying to help you, Ethan laughed again, sounding somewhat deranged, and then he promptly tumbled to the floor.  
  
Willow had listened quietly before raging, YOU ALL BLAME ME!  
  
Spike and Tara, tending to Clem's wound, glared at the redhead, and Dawn softly cried. Buffy continued to struggle against the magic that held her, and Spike would've sworn he heard her growling.  
  
You'll have to contact someone named Vékell, Ethan warned them all, Don't know who she is or where.  
  
At this Tara looked up from her task, She's coming to us, she hadn't yet had a chance to tell Giles about her dreams.  
  
An unknown voice spoke from behind the group, She's already here.  
  
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Before anyone could move, the being motioned with a hand and appeared to fold several of the people in the room closer to her. Dawn was nauseous, and Tara found herself grabbing for nonexistent walls while Giles and Xander attempted to run for safety. Spike merely stood and stared, dumbstruck by the weirdness. When the motion within motion ceased, everyone who could still stand was standing in The Magic Box.   
  
Hurry, bring him to me, Vékell pointed at Clem, he's still alive. She breathed, and Clem's wounds were healed. Clem blinked and scrambled away, apparently unsure of how to react.  
  
Bloody hell, what was that? What did you do to us? Spike was not happy about the situation.  
  
I understand your concern, vampire, Vékell answered, let me explain-at least as much as I'm allowed.  
  
Tall, imposing without trying, her skin was the color of milk chocolate, her eyes like fields of heather flowers, and her hair was a reddish brown that was reminiscent of cinnamon or the hard reddened earth of southern Missouri. Most people would assume she wore colored contacts, but Spike knew this creature was what she wanted to be. He also noted she smelled of roses warmed in the sun. Perhaps it was the lack of humanity surrounding her, despite the appearance, that had tipped him off to her nature. He was suddenly certain she'd be able to look any way she wanted. Moving to Anya next, Vékell placed her hands on the young woman's forehead, she whispered, and it seemed Spike could hear the words of others, others like Vékell, softly answering that her will would be done.   
  
Turning to the rest of the group, the Power addressed them, The Slayer is immobilized along with the witch who's caused this mess, Vékell continued before anyone had the chance to interrupt, I'm not allowed to interfere in this too much, even I am constricted by certain rules. I broke many once, and I'm still paying. Tara, do you have the urn?  
  
Yes, but why?  
  
You'll need it in one piece, and then I've given all the help I can where the Slayer is concerned. Willow won't help, but she's not the only source of power, remember the spell, Tara. She's going to try and stop all of you, and she's really the reason I'm here-Willow Rosenberg will not be allowed to abuse The Key, my Key might I add.  
  
Dawn gasped and Spike moved to attack, but Vékell simply held up her hand, and Spike found himself promptly seated and unable to move. You made me? The teenager looked stunned and angry.  
  
You never belonged to Glorificus, Dawn, she was nothing.  
  
Giles demanded, And you? What the hell are you? Anya said--  
  
Anyanka, regardless of how much I liked her, would hardly have been given access to any real information about me. She was a demon. I was a Power, but not the one who created all of this out of loneliness and selfishness--  
  
Her words were cut off by a tremor, and she snapped at whomever was listening that only she seemed able to see, Oh, fine! You already know my feelings anyway.  
  
I watched your worlds' creation-it's not my doing. Originally, I was intended to keep and guard passage through all the portals, and even the worlds without portals are mine though few can get to them save myself. Actually, I destroyed many of the gates once humans exhibited signs of higher understanding, no need to let your lot wander about aimlessly. The Powers, unlike you all and most demons and demon gods, aren't copied from one world to the next. There are countless worlds with all of you in it, but this is the one that keeps the balance. I made The Key for the other Powers. In my absence, they too could walk in other worlds as needed. A war started over that Key, Dawn, you were hidden away and protected until you could be sent to Buffy.  
  
We know all that, Anya griped, you always were a wordy bitch.  
  
Spike grinned, I think our Anya would like you to GET TO THE SODDIN' POINT!  
  
Vékell's eyes flashed dangerously, Two of you were chosen to protect The Key after Buffy's death. Your Willow will try and use her, fix what she did with Dawn, but this will not be allowed. Killing Willow is already sanctioned, but I'm suggesting you find a way to save her before it becomes necessary.  
  
Tara, tears in her eyes, asked first, What do I need to do?  
  
Give me the urn.  
  
The blonde handed over the pieces she'd stored in The Magic Box months ago, and Vékell restored them, again without any of the whistles and bangs Willow's magic invoked. The Power's movements were precise, simple, and elegant, My help has almost reached it's limit. Tara, study the spell, remember what you've forgotten. Go, find a safe place for now, and do not return home, Dawn, you must stay with your protectors-Tara and Spike. And she was gone as quickly as she'd appeared.  
  
Spike was screaming, BLOODY! STUPID! WENCH! Innit that just like a superior being. They'll fuck with your head, tell you what to do, and not bother actually fixing the mess they let happen to begin with. Everyone in the room shared the vampire's sentiments.  
  
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The car was roomy, dark, and, thankfully, free. Both Dawn and Tara were asleep, and with a long drive ahead of them north of Sunnydale, Spike thought that was for the best. Clem had already given Spike the keys to his family home, which he was more than happy to accept considering how little he wanted any one of them in that damned town at the moment. Buffy would likely already be awake and stalking him, Tara, and possibly Dawn, but Spike would fight for all three of them even if it meant killing the Slayer. Apparently, whatever that bitch was, she wasn't really Buffy anymore. Unlike most humans, Spike had no problem distinguishing between the differences once the matter was settled. Oddly enough, he'd said to Xander and Anya once that even if Buffy had come back wrong, he wouldn't have killed her; those were different times when he was still in love with the girl she'd been. Thanks to the Buffy Summers he'd known, the woman he'd loved, he'd learned that humans could be more than prey. Now he was responsible for two humans, okay, one witch and one mystical key with the power to possibly suck the entire world into hell and back again, but why quibble over a few words?   
  
As the group left The Magic Box, Giles was clear and firm, Spike, take them and leave-go as far as you can tonight. If necessary, drive further tomorrow. I don't want to know where you are, but I am giving you my cell phone and charger to call me. Take care of them... The Watcher had started to weep, I'm going to... I'm going to take care of Buffy in my own way. Giles then barked at Xander and Anya to leave in another direction, and the group scattered-like people will do when looking for shelter before a storm. Spike and Tara realized returning for her car wasn't an option, and the couple had partly dragged and mostly carried an overwhelmed Dawn into Willy's.  
  
They were greeted with a mixture of fear of awe, Hey, Spike, what's it gonna be? You out to show the ladies a good time?  
  
I need a car, mate, Spike told him, You owe me money, gimme your keys.   
  
Willy scrambled to accommodate the demands, We'll be even then, right?  
  
Snorting, Spike replied, Not bloody likely! Do you know how much you owe me?  
  
Aww, man, when you gonna give me a break? I didn't mean to lose those kittens!  
  
Didn't mean to lose those kittens? Thanks to you, git, I still owe a passle of Siamese to my bookie. Since I'm no welsher, neither are you, the vampire smirked, Now, the keys, barkeep, I'm in a bit of a rush. And you haven't seen me in weeks, got it?  
  
Yeah, yeah, sure thing, buddy.  
  
Dawn had interrupted the two, Um, Spike? I'm kinda hungry.  
  
Willy smiled brightly, I've got some snacks stashed back here**.** Oreos, chips, cokes too? There's even some peanut butter and crackers, kiddo.  
  
That'll do us, Spike answered for her, Wrap it up and we're gone. Out of your greasy hair for a time anyway. Toss in some single malt too and a few pints of the red stuff, and then we're a little closer to even, eh?  
  
That was it. Spike tossed the bag of snacks into the back seat, and the three unlikely travelers were on their way to a house on the coastline. Spike had been to Clem's family home, and he knew the demon kept it almost exactly as his mother left it. It was a Cape Cod style house, casual interior, it spoke volumes of comfort and welcome. Clem's family pictures were everywhere in the place, and it was obvious he'd been a child who was loved and doted upon by his mother and father. The house would be perfect for the two women to relax in while waiting. Dawn could even head down to the beach if she wanted, and it would be hers to enjoy in private since Clem had come from quite a bit of money-you wouldn't know it to see him, but the man inherited a lot from his family. Spike was grateful for that at the moment.  
  
When they arrived, Tara gasped in surprise and Spike grinned, You approve, pet?  
  
This place is fantastic!  
  
Dawn, wide eyed and still half asleep, murmured, Who knew your friends had taste. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes.  
  
It's time the kiddies went to bed, eh? Dawn, why don't use the room at the top of the stairs on the left. It's the guest room, and I know Clem's mother put clothes of all sizes in that one. Tara, you take the master. It's upstairs too, and you'll be able to wear Hannah's clothes. She was about your size, an inch or two taller.  
  
Um, okay. What about you? Tara questioned.  
  
I'm taking the basement, love, s nice down there. Belonged to Clem, Sr., and that man knew how to put a den together right proper. Spike laughed lightly at the memories of spending time with Clem's parents, even Dru had liked them, I've known Clem and his family a long time.  
  
So I gathered, Tara looked around the front room, It's pretty in here. The pictures? Clem's mom was human?  
  
Chuckling Spike said, Oh yeah, his dad had a real yen with the tight-skinned set. Clem always jokes about human women, but he has a bit of a fondness for them himself.  
  
Dawn chimed in, Cool, but I think I want to go to bed.  
  
You okay, Dawnie?  
  
Yeah, Tara, I don't really want to talk about Buffy, her voice started to crack, I think Giles is going to kill her.  
  
Platelet, we don't know what Giles is going to do yet. He'll contact that bastard Travers first-maybe he'll have some good news for us.  
  
The teenager sniffed and wiped away her tears, I know. I think I just want to rest, okay?  
  
All right, upstairs then. You too, Tara, Spike smiled at both women and was surprised when Tara leaned up to kiss him good night. After everything that happened earlier, he was sure she'd be so hell-bent on saving Willow that she'd forget all about him. That was the one thought he hadn't wanted to entertain.


	8. When She Was Wrong 7 pt 2

Chapter 7 pt. 2

Giles slumped into the seedy motel chair and picked up the phone. If Quentin Travers thought he could get away with avoiding this conversation, Giles would crawl, scrape, and kick his away across the world to beat the answers from the man if necessary. Rather than wasting his own dime, he placed a collect call to the Council and was almost immediately rewarded with a warm, Mr. Giles, we're so glad to hear from you.  
  
Thank you, Miss Penshaw, Is Quentin around right now?  
  
Yes, I'll transfer your call, Giles had always liked Sylvia Penshaw. She was a nice woman, and he'd never understand how Travers had managed to hire her, There you go, he'll be right with you.  
  
Thank you.  
  
You're welcome, as always, she sounded genuine.  
  
For a moment classical music played softly in Giles' ear, soothing, then a brusque voice interrupted the mellow tones, Rupert, is there a problem?  
  
We need to talk, Quentin.  
  
An uncomfortable silence, almost palpable, crossed the Atlantic and continental US over the phone lines, It's Miss Summers, isn't it?  
  
Yes, Ethan Rayne said I should speak with you, and then I spent much of the evening in the company of something I have no words for other than Goddess. Vékell was the name she chose.  
  
What does she have to do with you or the Slayer?  
  
I honestly don't understand-yet. What the hell is happening to Buffy? If you're holding out on me, I swear--, Giles was angry and unable to finish his statement. He was certain the Council had once again withheld vital information, so why bother with threats. Rupert Giles had never felt more helpless in his life.  
  
Quentin Travers sounded evasive to the other man's ears, We aren't precisely certain what's wrong.  
  
Giles remembered everything Ethan had told him and intended to use the information to the best advantage, What does Isabella Mazzioni have to do with John Travers?  
  
Gasping, Quentin demanded to know where Giles had heard the name, but Giles only repeated his question. Finally, the older man answered, My grandfather was her Watcher as you already know, Travers hemmed a bit before continuing, He fell in love with Isabella. She was nineteen, and he was well into his forties. The Council didn't approve, and neither did she, frankly. She was removed from his care to your family's estate, Rupert. It's a black period in my own family history I'd rather not remember, but it does have bearing on Buffy Summers.  
  
And what exactly happened after that? It must be pretty bad, Quentin because there is no mention of this in the old journals, and my grandfather and father never discussed this with me.  
  
Your father was twenty and serving in the military. Most of the young men did their time in World War II, you know that. By the time he came home, it was already done. Those involved agreed not to share the story.  
  
And you? Giles temper simmered in anger.  
  
My father was horrified by what Grandfather did, Rupert, he told me and made me swear it would never happen again. Any Watcher who even hints at having more than professional feelings, or fatherly as you do which is also discouraged as you already know, is automatically dismissed.  
  
Giles stomach churned, What exactly did John Travers do to this girl?  
  
A tired sigh reached the former librarian's ears, He followed her to your home, lied to your grandfather and claimed our Council had approved and agreed to a marriage between himself and Isabella. Travers cleared his throat, It was an embarrassment-can you really blame me for not wanting this in the journals? The girl was angry and ran. She stumbled, Rupert, right into the arms of a witch who needed her blood. We never discovered why.... Hell, man, no one could even discern how Isabella was killed so easily! All the evidence was destroyed, but the one account I read in my father's personal diary states she was lying, unbound, on an alter while blood streamed from her throat. Oh, God, Rupert! This follows me all my waking hours, man! John Travers raised her, and before you ask, it was the same ritual used for Buffy Summers. Isabella came back, and things seemed all right for a time, but it was so obvious she hated the man. She always claimed she had no memory of dying and barely any of slaying -- It seemed pointless to push her according to your grandfather.  
  
Giles interrupted, And your grandfather was allowed to remain a member of the Council? His mind reeled in horror, Quentin, you have to tell me the rest, for Buffy's sake.  
  
No! I'll tell you the rest for your sake, but not hers. She's dead to you, Quentin's voice was pain filled, Isabella Mazzioni ran away again. You have to understand, Rupert, London was in a panic! It was January 20, 1943. Forty-four London schoolchildren and one teacher had been killed that afternoon during an air raid. Isabella took advantage of the curfew, hid in shadows, she was murderously angry and very difficult to track. John Travers managed to follow her probably because she allowed him to, Rupert, and what he found... You must swear you'll never repeat this!  
  
For the sake of information, Giles would have sworn to a hula dance naked while Spike threw money at him, Done, you've got your oath.   
  
She'd torn apart her family, everyone. Her younger siblings were hanging from the rafters in a church, and they'd been eviscerated... Your grandfather was so angry with mine when she ran that he followed John Travers, he saved his life that night. Before Isabella could kill John, Percy shot the girl.  
  
Amazed and horrified, Giles found himself sickened that a Watcher was forced into killing a Slayer, even an insane and murderous Slayer, Why did it happen?  
  
Rupert, we still don't know. I am sorry, but if it's happening again, you realize what must be done? She'll eventually lose all sense of who she was. Isabella was depressed and suicidal before she'd ever been brought back, and while it might take Buffy Summers longer to deteriorate, it will happen.  
  
  
  
It's speculation, but that's why I believe she was found dead without having fought her attacker... There was no autopsy, so we'll never know for certain, but my father's diary mentioned no signs of magical force used on the body. I wish to God I knew who the witch was, Giles.  
  
Giles hung up the phone and began crying.   
  
......................................................................................................................................................  
  
Meanwhile, back at Clem's place, Tara tossed and turned in the large bed. She'd sat with Dawn until the girl fell asleep then tiptoed into the room across the hall. It was a large room with plenty of windows and an airy light feel. The bedroom had been decorated in soft blues and antique white. The master bath was huge and completely stocked with any toiletry a visiting guest might want, it had been cleaned recently too. Tara suspected Clem hired someone to keep the place going in his absence. The bedroom was meant to be inviting and restful, and it succeeded. Two windows, side by side, gave the resident a beautiful view of the Pacific coastline. There were shutters inside that could be latched for privacy or to block out the morning light. Tara closed the shutters and looked about; on the dresser, several candles of varying lengths, all a cream and honey colored beeswax, were arranged artfully. She quickly located some matches and lit the candles.   
  
Despite the soothing fragrance and atmosphere, Tara's mind continued to worry over Vékell's words. Willow might die, and what about Buffy? If she and Spike planned on having any kind of relationship, Tara decided they'd be better off discussing what all this might mean. While she was truly over Willow, she knew that she'd grieve if her former lover was killed, and Tara assumed Spike would be just as unhappy to see Buffy die. Slipping from the bed, the witch reached for a robe and crept quietly from her room, down the hall, and downstairs.   
  
There was a light emanating from beneath the door to the basement. At least Spike was awake, and she could hear the faint murmur of a television, so she knocked.  
  
Just a minute, Spike answered, and she could hear the sounds of him getting up from a couch or bed. His footsteps fell heavily on the stairs, but the door cracked open, Tara? Love, you all right? Sorry, come in.  
  
she looked around nervously, um..it's nice down here.  
  
Told ya' it was, he smirked.  
  
There was a billiards table, plasma TV, an oversized office desk, several tasteful paintings of English hunts, and the overall feel of the room was undecidedly masculine. What did he do?  
  
Clem's dad? Imports and exports. Imports mostly, all of it legal too! That demon was brilliant, but Clem took more after his mother-he's got her creative streak. He plays a helluva bass guitar, Spike smiled warmly, Can't sleep, ducks?  
  
Not really, wanna come upstairs? Tara hesitated a moment, I-I don't want to be alone, Spike, and then there's Willow...Buffy...  
  
Spike pulled the young woman closer, Shhhh, s'not the time to fret over it, Tara, we can't do anything tonight. Come on, let's you get tucked in and off to sleep.  
  
Tara reached for Spike and pulled him closer, determined to convey the message, and she kissed him as thoroughly as he had her earlier, I don't think I want to sleep.  
  
Spike broke away and asked, You sure?  
  
In answer, she grasped his hand and led him up the stairs. The master bedroom, warmed now by all the candles, glowed and cascaded across the vampire's skin. Tara had the fleeting thought that he was as nervous as she was, unable to make the first move, so she did instead. Discarding the bathrobe, she sat on the bed and motioned for Spike to join her. He'd tossed on his jeans before answering the door downstairs, but grinned before removing them.  
  
Can we take this slow?  
  
Anything you want, pet, and his eyes conveyed the message that he truly meant the words, lie flat on your stomach, eh?  
  
He didn't take off the nightshirt she was wearing, and Tara wondered what on earth he could see in her. Trust me, Tara? His voice held notes of longing and desperation, that someone, anyone, would just for once trust him.  
  
she replied and Spike kissed the top of her head.  
  
Tara rolled onto her stomach and immediately felt her foot clasped gently, almost reverently. There was a brief moment of silence and then a quiet sigh as Spike began massaging Tara's right foot. It was exactly what she needed, and all of her limbs began relaxing. Spike did the same with the other foot, then moved up Tara's calves, So pretty, he whispered, Tara sensed near awe in his voice and she blushed.   
  
Soon, she found herself soften as Spike kneaded her tired muscles. By the time he finished her shoulders, she couldn't help but sink into a sleepy stupor. His hands, taking heat from her own body, had ceased feeling cold almost from the instant he began touching her, and as the tension was released, the young woman drifted into an easy state of mind. She hadn't thought it was possible after the horrifying party earlier in the evening, correction, yesterday, but she it was nice to let go for a few moments. It was well past two in the morning; she knew she should get some sleep, but Tara wanted to be awake, enjoy her time with Spike as long as possible, and then the two of them could deal with what needed to be done later.  
  
Pet, you awake? Spike's words were barely a murmur, and Tara assumed he spoke softly to avoid waking her.  
  
I'm still with you, she replied.  
  
The vampire asked Tara to roll over, Time to loosen up the front a bit, eh?  
  
She complied and again sank into her thoughts, though she could see Spike as well as hear him now. Again he started at her feet, moving up her legs, and working away all the tension in her thigh muscles. Finally, he leaned over Tara and gently kissed her.   
  
The couple kissed hesitantly at first, Spike eventually asking, Do you want to stop?  
  
Do you? She wondered if her voice betrayed the mixture of worry that he'd say yes and hope that he'd say no.  
  
Spike's eyes appeared to search her face, No, just want to make sure...you know...make certain we're not doing anything you'll regret later.  
  
In answer, Tara pulled the vampire closer to her. She knew neither was ready to admit loving the other, but both were ready to continue moving forward with their lives. For the first time since high school, Tara was interested in a man, okay, he was a demon too, but she'd always sensed so much more from Spike than his vampiric nature.   
  
Excepting his eyes, there was none of the softness about Spike to which Tara had grown accustomed in Willow. While she watched him move from massaging one limb to the next, she studied his angles, tendons, muscles honed to a cat-like finesse. His touch was soothing, and her body began to feel like soft butter, melting into the sheets. Eventually, Spike's touch lightened as he traced lazy patterns across her legs, not pushing at the nightgown. To Tara, he seemed almost shy, afraid to make the next move that would mean they could never go back to being simply friends who relied on one another. She decided for him and sat up, pulling the simple cotton shirt over her head. Spike exhaled forcefully, and she wondered what he was thinking.  
  
Knew you were beautiful, kitten, just not this beautiful, he grinned, nearly intoxicated just by the sight of her bare shoulders, hips, and breasts. Candlelight darkened Tara's blue eyes, making them almost black, and Spike wanted to drown in her, live inside her, know what she was contemplating as she thought it. She'd always just been there in the background, watching, waiting, but he'd always seen her and even liked her when she was trying to hide from everyone. Oh, he'd admit he'd been too obsessed with Buffy to notice much of anyone else, but everything changed the night Tara helped him. She didn't help him to get anything in return; Spike was surprised to find he liked that quality in a person. Now he had Tara, and as he learned every trace of her body, the image of Buffy, dancing at the edge of his mind, dissolved until only Tara remained.   
  
They spent the night exploring one another. Tasting, touching, and finally realizing together what making love with a person, rather than only at the demands of another, meant. For Spike, it was an enlightening experience. He understood that Tara gave as much, or more, than she asked for, and she met every moment with a passion equaling his own. He'd expected her to be nervous and withdraw, but Tara wasn't as inexperienced as he'd initially assumed. Having a lover just as involved as he had always been was better than he could've hoped. In the quiet afterwards, Tara fell asleep cradled against Spike who thrilled that she didn't push him out of the room, try to crawl away, or call him names for simply loving her. He hadn't said the words, not yet, but he knew it was a matter of time before he did, and he instinctively knew Tara would be the person to reciprocate and mean it.   
  
......................................................................................................................................................  
  
In the dim light, Dawn tossed and turned in her bed unsure of what had woken her. She'd been afraid at first, but she was certain Spike and Tara would already be racing for her room if there was a problem. Again she thought she heard the sound of a window opening, and the teenager sat up, wild eyed, and stared at her door. Maybe Spike went out to smoke?   
  
Dawn's voice trembled, No one answered, but the silence was more ominous than the previous noises had been. Dawn might have attributed it to the house settling in the dark if she hadn't been so upset by the everything Vékell had told her earlier. In all the years she'd known Willow, Dawn never would've expected the witch to harm a living soul, but she'd changed dramatically in the past couple of months. After Tara left, Willow acted so depressed and angry with her old girlfriend one moment only to turn around and whine about how much she missed Tara the next. It was scary, but Buffy wouldn't listen to Dawn about her fears. Now Dawn understood why. Buffy didn't care because Buffy wasn't really Buffy, but what was she? The teen tucked her knees under chin and listened intently, but she didn't hear anything except a gentle breeze blowing against the house while the waves caressed the beach. Maybe it was nothing. Dawn shrugged and scooted under her covers again thinking, I'll have to thank Clem for letting us stay here. Down comforters are way nicer than Motel Six,' and she began drifting off to sleep in the cocooned warmth.  
  
When the teenager slipped into a dream, Willow Rosenberg entered the room and smiled, Hey, cutie, we're going on a little trip. Tara belongs to me, and Buffy is going to be fine, but I need a little help from you, sweetie. Hide and seek is over. There was a rush of noise, color, and light, and Dawn and Willow were gone from the house before Spike or Tara even had a chance to wake. 


	9. When She Was Wrong 8

Disclaimer: Don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, never will, wish I did, then I'd have all the cash. I'll put the bloody toys away when I'm done.  
  
Note: Many thanks to Linne, who I am sure will be relieved to hear that I'm working hard on the last chapter and epilogue.

When She Was Wrong 8

Ethan had been the first to wake after Vékell had transported the others away from the scene. He'd surveyed the damage and, for once in his life, felt sickened by the surrounding chaos, perhaps because he hadn't caused it. Neither Buffy nor Willow was conscious, and it didn't take long for the sorcerer to decide on a path. Gathering his courage and senses, Ethan Rayne scooped the unconscious Slayer from the floor. If Buffy Summers could be controlled as Osiris had indicated, he'd be the one to find a way. Imagine,' he thought, all that power and muscle, supple and sweet young muscle at that, to do my bidding.' This might turn out to be a better day than he'd originally thought.  
  
It hadn't taken him long to find keys to the Summers' auto, and securing Buffy with magic was also easy. He'd moved fast. Urgency and purpose were the driving forces behind Rayne, and he'd told himself to get out before Willow could regain her senses. Facing the witch might have been entertaining, but it hardly would have been called productive. Thankfully, Harmony Kendall was no longer an issue. Ethan secured Buffy in the basement room, and even the Slayer would be unable to break free from the magically enhanced bindings. It hadn't taken much time to locate a vet willing to give him high powered animal tranquilizers normally meant for cattle and horses. He'd keep Buffy drugged until he could figure out which ritual was necessary for controlling the insane young woman. As soon as the girl stirred, he'd shot her with the first dose of drugs and prepared the next.  
  
Dreams of stolen magical artifacts, as well as a highly trained and effective bodyguard, filled Ethan's head. It was better than sugar plums and fairies. In his own quest for power, Buffy Summers would have no choice but to help him, and when she became too old and worn, he'd kill her. He savored his plans and settled into his bed for some well deserved rest.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Clem crawled from Spike's crypt searching frantically for the keys to his car. That redheaded bitch had left him bleeding and battered on the floor before disappearing. He had to warn Tara and Spike before it was too late, but if Willow could teleport herself to their location, he'd never stand a chance. Staggering to his feet, the demon winced in pain and asked, Where's that Vékell when you need her? His question hung in the air unanswered, and all Clem could do was hope to get to a phone fast. Spike had given him Giles' cell number before leaving town, and he was grateful for the information. Hearing voices in the dark cemetery, Clem stopped to listen in case Willow had returned.  
  
I know I saw her come this way, Ahn! It was Xander Harris, and Clem couldn't have been more relieved to see the human couple, or non-couple as Tara had called them.  
  
Xander! I don't care if it was Willow! Giles told us to get the hell out of town and hide, and you want to stick around trying to reason with the psycho? Anya sounded incredibly angry, but Clem continued to make his way toward the voices.  
  
Since when do you listen to Giles? Xander demanded.  
  
Giles? What does any of this have to do with Giles? To Clem's ears, the young woman sounded genuinely puzzled.  
  
Good question, Ahn, you've been talking about the guy ever since we left The Magic Box.  
  
Xander began mimicking Anya, _Ohhh, I hope Giles is all right. Do you think Giles will have to kill Buffy? I hope Giles doesn't end up getting hurt by this. Poor Giles_.  
  
So, Anya, do you think ya could maybe just not mention the guy for all of five seconds?  
  
I'm worried about him, Xander, Anya explained. You don't have a clue what this could do to him do you? As far as he's concerned, Buffy is his daughter. If he has to kill her, it will destroy him. Grow up!  
  
Fine, let's just find Willow.  
  
Why would she be in Spike's crypt? She's got to know he's not stupid enough to hide Tara and Dawn right under her nose.  
  
Clem thought the young woman had a point, and she was only half wrong-Willow had been at the crypt, just not looking for Spike. The demon wanted to say so as he reached them, but it didn't make much sense to get involved in a lover's spat. Clem's voice rattled over their conversation, I know where she's going... He coughed and choked a bit on blood before continuing, My place, and she'll get there before we can--have to call. Now! Clem fell to the ground again, barely able to think let alone move.  
  
Oh shit, Ahn, help me move him! Xander maneuvered quickly to Clem's side and asked, What happened, man?  
  
The demon opened his eyes and clasped Xander's arm, he croaked, Call Giles' cell phone, hurry. No phone at my parents' place. Clem passed out again while Anya grabbed for her cell.  
  
Xander, there's no answer!  
  
No, no, no! This isn't happening. Willow wouldn't do this to someone-even a demon, Anya, the young man said as he began crying.  
  
It is happening, Anya told him, You'd better get used to it too because I don't think we can fix this one. We've got to find Giles.  
  
Anya stood silent for a moment, thinking. I'll make some calls to the Council while we're getting Clem over to Willy's place, Xander. Willy should know someone who can help him.  
  
Xander wiped his eyes and nodded before carefully picking up Clem and carrying the demon to his car.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
It was a familiar setting, but the teenager couldn't discern why the house seemed so familiar to her. From her vantage point, tied to an old wooden rocker, it was hard to see much of anything, but the fireplace teased Dawn's memories. By now, it had to be close to morning, and there was no sign of rescue. This was worse than being with Glory, she reflected, or maybe it was the same. After all, Ben, like Willow, had been her friend, and then he turned on her just as Willow had.  
  
Willow finally spoke, I'm sorry, sweetie, but I need you with me. I'm going to make it all better. I promise.  
  
For a moment, Dawn considered her options, but her head ached too much to formulate a plan. I'm thirsty, Will, the girl did her best to sound pathetic, please, help me. She hoped Willow would just give up whatever crazy idea she had.  
  
Sure, Dawnie, I've got some things here for us both. We'll only be here until tonight...well, I'll only be here until tonight. I'm not sure what will happen to you, not yet, but I know you'll be okay. I just don't know if you'll stay here when I leave.  
  
Willow wasn't a world class super liar, Dawn thought. It seemed the witch's incessant babble was nothing more than a cover, When it's all done, you won't even remember. That's my extra special Willow-guarantee. Willow turned on a small desk lamp and smiled at her captive.  
  
Instantly, Dawn realized where she was-Doc's. The old demon who'd helped her with the spell to raise Joyce was dead, but no one had moved into his home. Everything was the same as Dawn remembered, aside from the dust and disuse.  
  
Why are we here?  
  
You wouldn't understand, Willow answered, I'm going to untie you, Dawnie, you can eat and drink what you like-the house is protected. You can't get out, sweetie. It's just us now.  
  
Terrified, Dawn yelped when Willow touched her, Don't be like that! Dawn, it's your chance to play the reindeer games. The witch's eyes turned black and Dawn instinctively pulled away from her. Willow laughed and said, Let's drop the pretense. You do what I tell you to, and I'll play nicely.  
  
This was the Willow Dawn remembered from the past few weeks.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Giles first stop was Buffy's house, but no one was around. There were no signs of further struggles, but the damage was worse than he'd initially realized. The Watcher would have to do some asking around before he could get a clear sense of what had happened. With Joyce's SUV gone, it was possible Buffy ran off and Willow had gone in search of her, or perhaps Ethan simply stole the vehicle to get out of Sunnydale, a more likely scenario in Giles' mind. The last thing he expected was to see Anya and Xander come racing down the street.  
  
When Anya's car screeched to a stop, she burst from the passenger's side and ran to Giles. You're okay, she said, hugging him tightly, I've called everywhere looking for you! Those people at that motel you stayed in were rude, and let me tell you something, mister, Quentin Travers is an obnoxious prig!  
  
Stunned, Giles returned her hug before saying, You were supposed to be gone. What's happened?  
  
Xander explained the situation. He also filled Giles in on the details of Willow's torture session with Clem. When Clem refused to give Willow any information, she'd pulled a mind-suck stunt on him worthy of Glory. Thankfully, the demon wasn't left a blithering lunatic. While speaking, Giles noted that the other man's voice sounded hollow, bereft of hope or humor, and it saddened him deeply.  
  
I think we have to assume the worst. Willow must have Dawn by now-let's hope she didn't kill Spike or Tara to get what she wanted, Giles told his friends.  
  
Xander exclaimed, She wouldn't hurt Tara!  
  
Maybe Tara was able to reason with her? Anya sounded like she was trying to be optimistic for the sake of everyone.  
  
Finally Xander asked, Where's Buffy? What happened to Ethan?  
  
I don't know. Giles shivered in the early morning chill as he continued to speak, None of this bodes well for any of us, but I think we should remember that Vékell didn't tell us everything was preordained. Apparently, we do have some hope in this matter.  
  
While the two men stared sadly at the house, Anya burst into tears. It was Giles who moved to comfort her before Xander even had the chance.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................................  
  
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow...' The words of the old Roethke poem flittered through Spike's brain like an early morning finch, and he moved across the bed to grasp for Tara. She was gone, and her side of the bed was cold. Bloody hell, he snapped. Jumping from the bed and grabbing his pants, Spike threw open the bedroom door and raced downstairs, his feet barely touching the steps. He assumed the worst. For fear of waking Dawn, he didn't yell. The living room was empty, but lights were on in the kitchen and Tara was singing softly. She was still here, not gone, here, and she sounded...happy.  
  
He stood listening to her warm and clear soprano tones. Spike also noted the fact that she'd closed the blinds on the south side of the house to keep the sunlight away from the more delicate skinned. The smell of bacon, eggs, fresh coffee, and chocolate chip muffins greeted him, and Spike had to admit it was nice to know a person, other than Clem, with some culinary skills these days. Tara's voice sounded relaxed as she sang Stormy Weather', and even though her voice wasn't the best suited for the piece, she did a right decent job of it. Eager to see the witch, Spike entered the cozy kitchen. You're up early, kitten, he commented.  
  
Tara spun around, a muffin tray in one hand, and stopped singing, I wanted to surprise you and Dawn. She smiled at him and said, I'm sorry I woke you.  
  
S'okay, Tara, missed you, Spike walked across the room to kiss her and Tara jumped backwards. Something wrong?  
  
Again he waited for the blow that wouldn't fall. Tara replied, these muffins are hot-hang on. She set the tray on a cooling rack then gladly accepted his kisses. I don't want to burn you-or me, and I'm very good at burning me.  
  
You were all passion and fire upstairs last night, he purred, giving her his best seductive grin as he spoke, want to go upstairs while your pastries cool?  
  
Mmmm....sounds perfect, but Dawnie is still sleeping, she replied and moved into Spike's arms, we should let her rest.  
  
There's a room downstairs too, he whispered.  
  
Tara giggled as Spike picked her up to carry her to the bed in the den. Neither heard Giles' phone ring.  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Damnit! They're still not answering. I just pray to God they're all right, Giles told Anya and Xander.  
  
Xander protested, I know Willow would never hurt Tara!  
  
Xander, I don't believe we know what Willow would do, Giles told the younger man. I think she might hurt anyone who gets in our way-including you.  
  
If that's true, are you sure we're safe here, G-man? Xander's worried expression told both Anya and Giles the other man didn't trust being in the shop.  
  
It's the best place for magical supplies and research, Xander. Especially if we're going to try a locator spell. I think all we can hope for is finding Buffy-or Ethan. Willow knows how to ward off magics.  
  
Anya, subdued for once, spoke softly, We'll find them, Giles, and a way to save Buffy too.  
  
Giles looked sadly at the pair in front of him, I don't think so... Not this time, Anya, I think it's really over for Buffy. After some prompting, Giles calmed himself enough to relay his conversation with Travers. Neither Anya nor Xander could believe any of it. Xander took it hardest, and Giles reaffirmed the story by saying, You must understand, Quentin wouldn't besmirch his own family name on a lark! This wasn't a dirty little bit of gossip spoken in hushed tones around the office, Xander. The man's grandfather stalked and tormented that poor girl!  
  
I hear you, but I'm not seeing it, Xander insisted, Travers would say anything to get a rise out of you, Giles! He'd love it if you killed Buffy for the good of the Council'.  
  
Anya took the more sensible approach by shouting, Shut up, Xander! You don't know anything about the Council, do you? In all these years, you haven't learned a damn thing about these people! Quentin Travers isn't going to flush the Slayer down the proverbial toilet and wait for the fish to get rid of the evidence. You don't waste talent and power like Buffy's got. Travers knows that; wake up and smell the rotted meat.  
  
Rotted meat? I think you mean coffee, Ahn, Xander told her.  
  
Uhhhhhh! See, this is why I am not getting back together with you, Xander Harris! I can't even speak the way I want without you correcting me. Who died and made you the grammar Nazi?  
  
Be quiet, both of you! Giles cleaned his glasses, Anya has a point, Xander. The ex-demon smirked.  
  
What?! I am so not a grammar Nazi! You and Will are the--  
  
Do be quiet, Xander! I mean that Anya has a point about Travers-he's not going to leave the Hellmouth unprotected if it can be avoided. Besides, wake up and smell the coffee' is a somewhat universal colloquialism. That's hardly a grammar rule.  
  
Xander ignored the last remark. Okay, I see where you're going with this, but what if he killed Faith and just had a new Slayer come here?  
  
Anya snorted, Oh please, that's too complicated, and why not have Faith killed first? Did you put your brain in a blender this morning?  
  
Again, stop arguing. We're not helping anyone right now, Giles told them, I'd suggest you both start researching, and I'm going to get the supplies to do a locator spell.  
  
The three parted ways to work on their tasks, and Giles was quickly set up to try the spell. While he was familiar with the mechanics of magic, he wasn't nearly as proficient as Ethan or Willow, and all he could do was hope neither of them set up wards to block themselves from being found. Since Buffy had no magical skills, he decided to look for her first and hope for the best. Anya and Xander were engrossed in their own work, and Giles first few attempts were murky at best, though he was able to locate an ad for spicy buffalo wings in the yellow pages. Wouldn't Spike be happy to hear all about half price night on Thursdays when he returned, Giles thought irritably. Sighing, the Watcher decided to try calling his cell phone again. He just hoped Spike and Tara were awake and realized Dawn was missing, correction, he hoped the couple was alive.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................................  
  
After they'd made love again, Tara had wanted to be held without speaking, and Spike found it somewhat difficult to gauge her moods in these quiet moments. Above all, she'd seemed relaxed and content. It was very strange to be involved with a woman who was either. With Dru, everything was about a high level of passion, death, blood-lust, and constant change. Dru needed the motion because she was easily bored. Buffy brought some of the same elements back into Spike's life as well. Though her blood-lust, never acknowledged by the Slayer, was directed at the demons of the world and therefore acceptable. Tara wanted to be quiet and listen. She basked in the simple act of being still with another person, amazing. When she'd fallen asleep, Spike watched the rise and fall of her chest while he twirled her hair through his fingers. Her easy sprawl across the bed was almost childlike, and her mouth curved into a smile. The vampire felt himself caught up in her beauty while he cursed himself for being a total ponce. It seemed a shame to wake her, but he hoped Clem would meet up with them today, and there were plans to make. His plan might not be welcome, but surely Tara would understand it when the time came.  
  
he whispered, tracing her delicate collarbone, it's time. Spike gently kissed her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and lips. Come on, Tara, my other girl will be expecting us, and she'll probably eat all the muffins.  
  
She woke slowly, stretching her arms across his chest and snuggling further into the bedding. Tara avoided the act of consciousness as long as possible until Spike felt silken kisses across his chest move up his throat and finally meet his own mouth. Tara leaned back and smiled saying, I'm awake. Thanks for letting me get some rest, her smile still held that trace of shyness.  
  
Anything for you, pet, but we've got to move. Shower together?  
  
Tara blushed and shook her head, okay, so they'd have to work on some of her shyness, he decided. Yet, she probably had a point. He'd only end up saying fuck all to the Scoobies while he and Tara ended up in the bed yet again. It would mean Dawn would come looking for them, and Spike didn't think the little one was quite ready for a floor-show.  
  
After each had a quick rinse, the two of them dressed and managed to get upstairs without falling back into the bed. Both expected to see Dawn coming down or sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of muffins and a glass of Coke. God knew his Little Bit was not about to drink milk with breakfast like most of the kiddies, but the girl must still be asleep.  
  
The eggs are cold, Tara said, Did you want any? There are more in the fridge, and I can make a fresh batch.  
  
Spike smiled, she was a considerate bird this one. No thanks, pet, some muffins and a pint of o-positive should do me just fine.  
  
Are you going to dip? Tara asked, her voice filled with curiosity rather than disgust.  
  
Laughing he answered, Not today, sweets, shouldn't Dawn be up by now? The sun was higher in the morning sky and no longer directly hitting the shaded windows. Jesus, Tara, look at the time! We've been downstairs awhile, the vampire said, What about I call the Watcher while you roust the girl?  
  
Tara leaned down for another kiss before answering, All right, I know just how to do it too. She grinned wickedly at the vampire before saying, You're not the only evil one around here. Spike quirked an eyebrow at the witch as she grabbed some ice from the freezer.  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Wake up.  
  
I wanna go home,' the teenager thought.  
  
Come on, Dawnie, you passed out. You have to eat.  
  
Shut up, Willow,' Dawn didn't bother answering aloud.  
  
I warned you. The windows are protected, Dawn, but you just had to try and get out of the bathroom. Willow brushed the girl's hair from her face and told her, You're kind of not in listening mode. GET UP! Damnit, Dawn, you have to eat because I don't want to kill you!  
  
That got Dawn's attention. Prove it. Let me go.  
  
Laughing darkly, I can't. Someone has to save Buffy, but no one around here has the balls to do it but me.  
  
Dawn jerked at hearing Willow's language. Whatever had happened to the redhead, she certainly wasn't bothered by a few crude words these days.  
  
Here's the deal, honey, you're going to eat. I am going to stay with you. It'll be fun, Dawn, we can make a day of it. I brought some videos, snacks-the works.  
  
I thought you loved me, Willow.  
  
I do, sweetie, but I have to fix Buffy and Tara. You won't remember anything, Willow whined at the shaking young woman.  
  
You don't love anyon anymore, Dawn growled out the words. Buffy's nuts, and Tara doesn't need fixing. You just can't take no for an answer, sniped the girl angrily. And just stop with the games, Willow, the only thing you're interested in fixing is the stuff you can't control-unless you use magic. I'm not stupid.  
  
SHUT UP!  
  
The witch left the girl on the floor with a plate of food and walked to Doc's desk. There she unpacked her laptop, some books, herbs and print-outs. Without another word to Dawn, Willow set up her things.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Spike assumed Giles would have access to a phone. Since he wasn't certain where the Watcher would be staying, he opted to leave messages at Giles' home. When Tara screamed for him, he was lucky he didn't drop the cell phone and smash it to bits as he raced upstairs.  
  
Spike's worst fears were realized when he saw the young woman pulling Dawn's covers back from the bed to reveal nothing but pillows.  
  
Oh, Goddess! What if she tried to go home? Save Buffy?  
  
Shhh, pet, she wouldn't have done it, not without us, Spike said, comforting Tara. There was a familiar odor, not belonging to Dawn, mixed with the scent of fear and worry throughout the room. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Willow has her, he told Tara.  
  
W-w-willow? How? Tara's voice sounded confused and frightened, Vékell said she could hide us!  
  
I don't know, pet, but I think we'd better get back to Sunnyhell. Spike grabbed the closest blanket, tossed Tara the car keys, and told her she'd have to drive while he hid.  
  
She noticed he was still holding the cell phone and said, The light's blinking. Did you check the messages? Spike shook his head and Tara reached for the phone. She dialed the voice mail and listened intently to the electronic voice announcing, You have six messages.  
  
First message: Tara, Spike, it's Anya. I think Willow's killed Clem--  
  
In the background Xander shouted, HE'S NOT DEAD!  
  
Okay, so Clem isn't dead, but Willow is coming. Get out of there now! Anya was screaming, her voice shrill with terror.  
  
Second message: Hey, it's Anya again. We're taking Clem to Willy's place. We can't find Giles--Xander shut up! I'll ask, okay? Xander wants to me to ask if you have my cell phone number, but that's really kind of stupid when you think about it. Cell phones have caller id, and if I just leave you the number, you can call me back. It's 555-8743, call me, and get out of that house!  
  
Third Message: Damnit, Anya, it's voice mail again. I'm really gettin' sick of this.  
  
Xander, what if they're--  
  
Shhh, Ahn. Honey, listen to me, they are not dead. I promise.  
  
Fourth Message: Spike, Tara, it's Giles. We think Willow has Dawn. I'm assuming for now that you're both still asleep. It gets worse, Buffy and Ethan are missing too-please call Anya's cell phone, and I'm sorry to say this over the phone, but Clem is still unconscious.  
  
Fifth Message: Bloody hell!  
  
Sixth Message: Giles barked, Oh for God's sake, call us! It's after nine in the morning, just come home! We're at the The Magic Box.  
  
The voices of Giles, Xander, and Anya sounded angry, terrified and frustrated all at once. It's my fault, Tara said and burst into tears.  
  
Incredulously, Spike asked, How on earth did ya come to that daft conclusion?  
  
If w-we'd been listening for the phone--  
  
Stop, right there, Spike told her sharply, You will not blame yourself for this fuckarow. Do you understand me? Willow did something to Clem--my friend, might I add. Willow came into this house while we slept, and that buggered up bitch took the Niblet. Not you. Not me. Are we clear?  
  
Yes, but--  
  
Apparently, we are not clear. Spike's voice turned low and dangerous as he growled, You once told me I have a choice, Tara, Willow also has choices. She made the wrong decision, and chip or no, I will tear that bint's head from her neck and use it for a ruddy game of rugby after what she's done. But you, love, you will never blame yourself for her short-comings again. Spike pulled the blanket over his head and stalked downstairs, slamming the door shut on the way out of the house. Tara was thunderstruck, but she followed as she contemplated his words.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
The Slayer was unable to speak or move, but it didn't stop her from planning. Ethan could see the wheels turning in her pretty little head, but his plans would be far more entertaining. He placed the lavender, rosemary, and cedar in a stone mortar and ground the ingredients together with his pestle. When the first task was complete, Ethan strode across the room and cut Buffy's inner arm, Just a little, he told her as he patted her cheek. The blood dripped quietly into a sterling silver bowl, and he added the ground herbal mixture. Normally, these particular plants would have benevolent purposes. By using the Slayer's blood, Ethan had destroyed any chance of a benign spell. He could feel his excitement rising over the prospect of owning this woman.  
  
Soon, darling, he told Buffy, You and I will make our mark on this world. Ethan couldn't wait to see the look on Giles' face when the man realized the Slayer was Ethan's to control. The sorcerer spoke to Buffy, It could've been different if Ripper hadn't given me a beating for trying to help. I guess he will have to come to terms with the fact that you were dead long before I came back to this Godforsaken town. In his mind's eye, he saw the frantic Scooby gang clinging to one another and crying as he ordered Buffy Summers to tear their beloved Giles into bloody bits.


	10. When She Was Wrong 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Joss, ME, etc., own all, and I'm almost done with the toys.  
  
Note: Thank you, Linne, you are the best Red Pen Goddess around. For those interested, the knife in this fic is one that's been treated with a black coating and is frequently used in military special ops. Many collectors own them as well. The specific dagger I mention is an Italian make modeled after one my husband collected several years ago.  
  
This chapter contains a major character death. You've been warned. Like the previous chapter, this one moves at a faster pace-it seemed action was necessary. There will be a short epilogue to follow, and I hope it clears up any questions you find you still have. Thanks to all those who have read, reviewed, encouraged and critiqued helpfully along the way.  
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Tara and Spike hadn't spoken during the drive back to Sunnydale because he was still angry. When Giles finally reached them on the cell phone, Spike had grunted a few monosyllabic words at the Watcher before passing it to Tara. Clem was awake and safe, but there was no word on Buffy or Willow. Giles suspected Ethan had something to do with Buffy's disappearance after one of the Summers' neighbors was featured on the local news. The witness had seen a middle aged man leaving the home carrying a young woman. Giles also told Tara that all the Scoobies were wanted for questioning until Anya came up with a clever plan for dealing with them. He, Anya, and Xander went in to make statements, and the police were eager to accept their highly edited version of the truth. Anya had batted her eyes and explained that before everyone left the house last night, Buffy Summers had been complaining of a severe migraine and asked Tara Maclay to watch after Dawn Summers. Apparently, Anya lied further by saying that Tara had taken Dawn down to LA in hopes to catch up with the girl's father, but he wasn't in the country, and Dawn and Tara were due to return later in the evening. To cover up Ethan's involvement, Anya stated that Buffy was dating an older man much to the concern of her loved ones, and it was possible he'd convinced Buffy to leave town with him. Anya lied well. The police didn't bother to check up on the story, and everyone was in the clear. The officer on duty told Rupert, It looks like a standard breaking and entering case then, sorry to have troubled you folks, but if you think of anything else, please let us know. Tell Miss Summers she'll need a copy of the report to file an insurance claim when she returns. Well, at least Sunnydale's finest were out of the picture.  
  
Having arrived, Tara slipped quietly from the driver's seat and entered the store calling, Mr. Giles?  
  
Anya squealed, Tara! You guys are all right! Where's Spike?  
  
Still in the car.  
  
Xander volunteered to hurry the vampire while Anya briefed Tara on what their research had turned up, nothing. Giles waved and beckoned Tara to a pile of books asking, Can you break through a ward?  
  
Um...I don't know. Probably, but it will take some time.  
  
Which is something we simply do not have, Giles told her. Can you sense when and where heavy magics are being used?  
  
Tara smiled brightly, Yes, that won't be hard at all. Both Anya and Giles looked on the young woman with relief. Do you remember the spell to locate demons? Well, if we alter the words a little, I can use the same spell to locate magic use and magical barriers on a map!  
  
What can we do to help?  
  
W-well, I'm not as experienced as Willow is, Anya, I'll need someone to ground me. She's powerful enough to do the spell without any help.  
  
Spike, who was being shoved through the door by Xander, told her, I'll do it, love.  
  
She smiled softly in return and nodded. Giles, Xander and Anya scrambled for fresh supplies and a new map. When everything was ready, Tara and Spike stepped into the circle.  
  
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Ethan had done it. The Slayer belonged to him, and her vacant eyes stared blankly into the distance as she awaited instructions. For a moment, the sorcerer thought he'd tell her to do something simple and pick someone's pocket or clean the basement, but he decided a more strenuous test was needed.  
  
Slayer, come here, he ordered the blankly staring woman, we've got treats to get. I want you to get into Ripper's house and bring back my old mate's journals.  
  
The Slayer turned to leave when Ethan called a reminder, Don't let anyone see you. Kill whatever gets in your way. Oh, and don't forget, darling, I'll expect you back here in less than one hour. You and I are going to find your little witch friend if it kills you both. If he could control one powerful woman, why not two?  
  
Returning to Sunnydale had been a hard decision for Ethan to make, and he'd initially wanted to help Rupert. But after the pounding he'd received for being the messenger, Ethan picked up his older and nastier habits, slipping into revenge and chaos like some women slip into a couture gown.  
  
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You are not allowed to interfere in the matter of the Slayer, the disembodied voice informed Vékell.  
  
Don't remind me, she snapped back angrily.  
  
Careful, child, I have no qualms about sending you down there to live as a human if you are that determined to argue with me.  
  
I just don't understand why I can't help them!  
  
Your role comes soon, the mercurial voice said, and then you shall have your chance to deal with Willow Rosenberg. See to it she is not allowed to affect what I have set into motion.  
  
Vékell squared her shoulders and lifted her head, an act of defiance, Well, at least you're accepting blame for this mess. It really was about time.  
  
Silence! You have always been insolent and capricious, Little One, you will not anger me further. Go now, and return when the situation is resolved.  
  
Very well.  
  
Return here to me, the voice added, the very second your dealings are finished.  
  
Vékell stamped her foot and shouted, I heard you the first time!  
  
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Willow caressed the blackened dagger lovingly before turning to speak to Dawn. The knife, at least seven inches long and found in a speciality store, was wickedly sharp and thin. Perfect for slipping between someone's ribs, thought the witch. The teenager had no idea how lucky she was Willow wasn't using a dull blade which would've been more painful. If the girl scarred, it wouldn't be too much to worry about. Besides, scars were a moot point since Willow had every intention of returning to Doc's time and fixing what never should have happened.  
  
she whispered, it's time. Sleep.  
  
The girl slid to the floor, and Willow levitated her to an empty table. She stroked Dawnie's cheek, smiled sadly, and promised the girl that everything would be fine; the witch ignored the uneasy skitter across her spine. Willow had created her own spell to open then close the gateway as soon as she entered lest anything else get through. After all, Willow considered herself a highly responsible witch. She'd also solved the problem of taking Dawn's blood with her to reopen it from the other side. Carefully, Willow swabbed rubbing alcohol across the young woman's arm and picked up her blade, kissing Dawn's cheek before making an eight inch long cut from Dawn's wrist to elbow. The gash bloomed red, and blood ran quickly into Willow's cube shaped containers. Each box, constructed by magic and softly glowing, would contain the necessary blood indefinitely. Willow allowed the girl to bleed until she had just under two pints to take with her. Dawn's face was growing ashen, and Willow knew she had to stop. She bound the girl's cut tightly and prayed her theories were correct.  
  
After calling upon her power and saying the incantations, Willow Rosenberg took the first cube of blood and threw it to open a new gateway, black eyes gleaming with power. There was a blinding flash of indigo energy, and the witch stepped through the hollow. Dawn's wound began seeping through the coarse bandages.  
  
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Tara and Spike concentrated on the task in front of them. The map, small but detailed, would provide more than enough information for the couple to locate the use of heavy magics. As Tara invoked the Goddess, Spike contemplated what their argument might mean for the two of them. Finally, she cast the sand over the map and brilliant specks of color and light glittered across the surface. In two areas, the magics used were extremely dark and abundant. There were also several smaller areas of dark and white magic that might have to be checked as well, Tara thought.  
  
Giles leaned across the couple to read the street names down of the most likely candidates. When it was done, Spike let go of Tara's hands.  
  
She looked at him wistfully, but he only shook his head gently. Clearing her throat first, Tara spoke, I think we should go to these two areas first. What's this one? Oak and Maple?  
  
Xander answered, That's where a lot of the project housing is in Sunnydale, but there are some abandoned apartments and warehouses over that way too.  
  
Giles said, What about Orange and Cherry Tree streets?  
  
Spike jumped at hearing the address. He asked, You sure, Rupes?  
  
Yes, why?  
  
Harris, didn't that old goat live on Cherry Tree?  
  
Old goat?  
  
Stupid prat! Doc, you remember him, surely? Spike rolled his eyes.  
  
Xander's eyes widened, Oh my, God, you don't think he's still alive? Maybe he's got something to do with this too?  
  
Bugger that, Spike snapped, that bastard's dead. Buffy threw him off a damn 150 foot tower.  
  
We stabbed him!  
  
Not in the right place, git. His head hit that pavement and spattered like one of Gallagher's watermelons.  
  
Giles intervened before things could get out of control, Xander, you and Anya come with me. We'll take Oak and Maple while Tara and Spike investigate the other since he remembers the area. Hurry up!  
  
The group broke apart, and Spike headed for the nearest weapons chest. He regretted not having the time to teach Tara more self-defense than she'd learned the past summer, and he wondered if there'd be another chance. He hoped so because he found he needed this girl.  
  
You bring the urn, pet? He asked quietly, trying to be soft unlike his harsh words in Clem's house.  
  
Yes, I left it in the car, she replied.  
  
What do you think we need it for?  
  
I wish I knew, but we haven't got time to figure it out now.  
  
What's this?  
  
What?  
  
You being so cold with me, love?  
  
I thought you weren't speaking to me...I wanted...I wanted to give you some space, Tara answered.  
  
Spike appraised her and said, Shouldn'ta' been so cruel back at Clem's, Tara.  
  
No, you were right, tears welled in the woman's eyes. Willow has choices, and she's made one that I can never forgive, not this time. I might have been able to let her back into my life, be friends with her, but not now.  
  
You forgive me?  
  
Yeah, I needed to hear it, she answered.  
  
Smiling, Spike pulled the young woman closer and held as tightly as he could without crushing her bones. We'd better go, pet, time to fight. Others are gone already, he said.  
  
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Dawn dreamed of places she'd been, but hadn't. People she knew, but didn't. She traveled lightly through dimensions, never stopping, hearing bare fragments, and understanding very little until she came to an abrupt halt. The world surrounding her was muted, but she could feel a comforting presence placing hands on her shoulders, speaking softly, singing in a long dead language. Dawn knew the words, and that felt normal. But dreams will mess you up, kid, she heard someone else say. You gotta remember, they're not always dreams. She couldn't decipher the direction of the voice because it seemed to echo and bounce through a cavernous void, but it didn't matter for now because Dawn felt safe, warm, and loved. She was watching her family, including herself, and they were happily eating dinner together.  
  
When she turned and saw Buffy, she screamed because Buffy was staring right at her.  
  
Dawn, remember what I said last time. It's still true, but tell them they have to let me go-I don't have a lot of time. I'm not sure who gave it to me, but don't worry. The others are coming to save you. Dawn felt Buffy's arms wrap around her in the all too familiar embrace; this was the Buffy Dawn loved and wanted in her life. She could feel her sister's lips on her forehead. Dawnie, tell Tara that demonic energy put to good use can also turn on a person. Tell her I love you all, but don't listen to Willow-someone told me Willow might find a way out. I know you're safe from her for tonight. I'm not sure what it all means, but it's important. I do love you, you know, I love you more than anything, Dawn Summers. Be safe.  
  
The dream vision faded and Dawn felt herself being pulled into a new dimension, and thoughts as ephemeral as cobwebs told her, This is what it is to be The Key. She was real, but she was more real than anyone could possibly know. Dawn felt herself slide and step through the veils into so many worlds, some of which were the past and some were things that might come to pass. She even caught a brief glimpse of Willow stepping through the portal into Doc's past as she was pulled through time, and then further back, while Dawn was still The Key in its' purest form, she felt hot winds. She saw men, a girl, and she understood everything. Dawn knew what Buffy was and what her sister needed.  
  
As Dawn astral planed from world to world, the blood soaked bandage slipped from her right arm, and the girl's heartbeat began to slow. Dawn was dying.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Willow looked around Doc's house and smiled. She'd done it! Everything was clean, and the little desk calender was turned to May, 2001. When she'd started her research, Willow had assumed she would just follow Xander and Spike to Doc's, but the logistics weren't manageable. Instead, she'd casually asked Xander one evening where Doc lived, and Xander'd recounted the story of his and Spike's failure yet again. It was difficult to play the interested friend, but she muddled her way through the conversation. It was funny, really, because now she'd get to see the botch job her friend and that damned vampire were party to all those months ago. Willow stared at the magical cube containing Dawn's blood and whispered, Soon, I promise. We'll get them both back.  
  
It can't be too long,' she thought, as she hid in the darkened kitchen pantry. Doc sat rocking in his chair, the same chair she'd tied Dawn to just a few hours ago. No, she corrected herself, almost a year later. Willow stifled her fit of sneaky giggles. Doc's chair squeaked, and she could hear turning pages and smell a fragrant tea in the air. It reminded her of jasmine and strawberries. When the knock at the door came, she jumped and almost smacked her head on the wall. It was time! Xander and Spike had arrived, and now they were talking. It seemed to go on for hours until a fight began. A part of her wanted to join the fight, kill Doc and stake Spike.  
  
You think only underworld bottom-feeders worship the Beast? She heard Doc ask, and then came more sounds of fighting, yelling, and garbled shouts that sounded like they might be orders to grab something. It was over. Spike and Xander would leave believing they'd killed that fucking demon, but Willow would be here to finish the job for them. She slipped sideways between the door and its' frame, acutely aware of any possible noise she might make. Tiptoeing into the living room, Willow saw Doc's body on the floor, and she wondered what spell would be best for suffering.  
  
A woman's voice invaded her thoughts, You stupid girl.  
  
Whirling to face her accuser, the petite redhead saw the woman who'd stolen her friends the night before. I'm going to kill him. You'd better get the hell out, or you're next, she snarled.  
  
The woman smirked and raised her hand to her lips, shushing Willow. She spoke softly, words unheard by the witch. It didn't matter. If this bitch was helping Doc, she'd die even more painfully than he would. I am Vékell, the being told her, you trespass where you are not welcome or allowed. The past will not be altered for the whims of one very selfish child. Make your choice.  
  
Willow sneered, her eyes flashing darkly, Oh, really? She stretched her hands forward and called upon the elements, black lightening streamed from her fingertips and bathed Doc's body. The witch continued to laugh, turning to grin at Vékell.  
  
The choice is made, the Power whispered, and Willow felt something like rubber move through her veins, and she doubled over in pain. Ignoring Vékell for the moment, she turned back to kill Doc, but he was already gone.  
  
Vékell's lavender eyes flashed dangerously at the young witch, and she explained to Willow, You are neither here nor anywhere. You may walk the worlds, always alone, but you will not be leaving. You can neither affect nor be effected by the worlds, Willow. I believe you would have been called a Shade by some, and those who are capable of seeing you, will think you're nothing other than one more lost, confused ghost. The room surrounding Willow Rosenberg faded, the colors leeched away by Vékell she assumed, but she didn't actually believe the other woman's words.  
  
Smug, as always, Willow decided it was time to do battle. When she invoked Hecaté, Vékell smiled sadly and stepped through a portal taking Dawn's blood with her. Screaming at the portal to stay open, the witch watched in horror as it closed without a noise. Suddenly, she realized her magic really was useless, she couldn't touch anything, or feel even the warmth she'd noticed in the room earlier. Willow screamed, but there was no one around to hear.  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Giles, Xander and Anya had searched three apartment buildings and one warehouse, and Anya was starting to think Tara was just wrong. Maybe something happened to the spell, but trying to convince either Giles or Xander of that was like talking to ice cubes. Or was that a wall? She couldn't remember and didn't really care. By the fourth building, Anya Jenkins just wanted to go home, take a hot bath, and forget about Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg and Ethan Rayne. Let them have each other,' she wanted to yell at the two men, but she knew they wouldn't listen to her.  
  
When they cautiously approached an rundown tenement that was supposed to be abandoned, Anya was surprised to see a slight figure open a door and shrink into the shadows. She nudged Giles and pointed at a rickety set of wooden steps, worn from years of use, bad weather, and lack of care. Through the glass set in the door, she could see the faint glimmer of light emanating from the darkness.  
  
Was that Buffy? Xander asked her.  
  
I think so, she replied.  
  
Giles informed Xander and Anya, I don't want to go in without back-up. Let's find out if Tara and Spike have located Dawn before we do anything here. At least we know where Buffy is hiding, and if Ethan is there, it would be good to have Tara around. She might be able to block his spells.  
  
All right, Anya agreed, Let's go.  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Spike peered through the windows of Doc's house and gasped, horrified; he could see Dawn lying prone on a table, blood dripping from the poor girl's arm. Without waiting to see that it was safe, he broke the window and leapt into the living room. Tara scrambled through the open space after him.  
  
Tara ran to the unconscious girl and patted her face, Spike, I think she's lost a lot of blood.  
  
Be quiet, love! Spike concentrated and listened for the teenager's heartbeat, then said, She's alive, barely. Wonder where that bitch Red is? I can smell all over Dawn. The vampire growled, furious with Dawn's condition. If he ever got his hands on Tara's ex, he'd find a way to kill the bitch himself.  
  
From behind the pair, Vékell spoke, Don't move her. The Power approached and gently placed her hands on Dawn, holding Willow's magic cube before her. Vékell whispered, you're still needed. The blood appeared to drain from the cube; the cut disappeared, and Dawn's cheeks regained some of their natural coloring. Smiling, the outcast Power pulled Tara into an embrace as she said, You'll remember, and when you do, use the urn. You are so important to me, Tara, like your mother, your grandmother, and all the women who came before you in the line. To Spike she said, Take care of what's Mine, Vampire, and never forget who belongs to me.  
  
She vanished before Spike could reply. Neither he nor Tara concerned themselves with the creature's words since Dawn was stirring and speaking. Her first words, I know where to go, and Buffy said you'll know what to do, were the last words anyone expected.  
  
Be careful, Niblet, Spike told her, You're still weak as a kitten, and I don't fancy carrying you all around all night. Those legs of yours'll keep me off my balance. His words were spoken fondly, and Dawn gave him a weak smile in return.  
  
Dawnie, what do you mean?  
  
We have to get to Giles as fast as possible. Dawn leapt from the table, fairly well recovered and ready to work.  
  
But where's Willow? Tara wanted to know.  
  
Dawn sighed but answered, I'm sorry, Tara, I think Vékell had to kill her-something happened. I just...I don't know exactly what.  
  
Tara's face was filled with grief, but she took a deep breath and calmed herself before speaking, I was so afraid of losing her... But I lost her a long time ago because she pushed me away, and then I moved on without her. Sobs filled the room, I didn't want her dead!  
  
Spike gathered Tara and Dawn close to him, I know, pet, and there'll be time to grieve later. Dawn and I need you. We need you here with us-strong, ready to fight. We'll worry about Red after we've dealt with Buffy... His words trailed away in a whisper. As much as he loved Tara, he understood her feelings because he too dreaded Buffy's death. You don't ever really stop loving a person-even when you hate what she became.  
  
Tara nodded. Dawn hugged the witch and vampire more tightly saying, We've really got to go, guys. I'll explain on the way.  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Call it serendipity or fate, Giles didn't care, but he'd never found himself more grateful or relieved to see three people in his life-even that damned vampire. Just as he'd pulled up to the curb in front of Doc's, Tara, Spike and Dawn walked out of the house. They were clinging to one another fiercely, and the young women were crying. Spike's face held a look of utter fury and determination. No one had to say, Get in the car, or, We really must be going, because the little group was already headed straight for Xander's' car. Spike yanked the back door open and allowed Dawn and Tara to climb in next to Anya who, in deference to Spike, got out and sat up front with Xander and Giles. It was a strange sight to watch these people move so fluidly, almost as one.  
  
Rupes? What's the news?  
  
Giles filled in as many details as he could and listened patiently to Dawn's story. As the young woman revealed her dreams, Tara startled, thinking of her own nightmares that seemed a lifetime ago.  
  
It was Buffy! My sister, hello, don't you think I'd recognize my sister? She snapped at both Giles and Xander who wanted to make the case that Dawn might have seen something evil. I'd like to say that everything is gonna be great, she said forcefully, but the real Buffy told me to let go. If I can do it again, you can too. Dawn's words invoked Giles' anger. It was horrible to think that Buffy was never really back to begin with, and when Dawn explained that she understood what Buffy had become, the Watcher nearly lost his mind with rage and grief. Xander, as usual, didn't comprehend the situation.  
  
So, she's the Slayer? She's always been the Slayer, the young man yelled, We just have to find a way to help Buffy!  
  
She's not just the Slayer, Xander, Dawn patiently explained, that's all she is. Someone created the first Slayer-it wasn't some higher power either! A group of men forced demonic energy into a girl...it was horrible. Dawn began crying, She was alone and afraid, and no one remembers her name. You ought to know, you've met the First Slayer! When Willow brought Buffy back...she screwed up royally, majorly. Buffy's soul is trapped inside that thing. The outside? It's nothing now...just demonic. The girls voice wavered and fresh tears poured from her eyes, You think I want Buffy to die?  
  
Tara put her arms around the crying young woman, I know, sweetie, none of us wants Buffy to die.  
  
Giles interrupted, What can we do? Tara, how do we use the urn?  
  
Vékell said I'd know what to do when the time comes.  
  
You'll remember, love, Spike told the witch, it'll happen when it needs to.  
  
Or we'll all die when Buffy decides to pull our entrails through our noses, Anya sniped.  
  
Anya! Not, helping! Xander's voice cut through the din, Tara what would Willow do?  
  
I think we already know what Willow would do-try to kill Dawn, go back a year or so and fix' the problem, Tara answered quietly. Willow's way isn't mine.  
  
So, we're just back at the beginning?  
  
I didn't say that, Xander, said Tara. You're looking for an answer that saves everyone, but that's not always possible.  
  
Dawn choked back her tears to say, Tara's right.  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Ethan Rayne stared down into the vacant eyes of the Slayer and asked, Need anything, love?  
  
Buffy's wooden reply echoed throughout the basement.  
  
I think I prefer, No, sir,' my dear, said Ethan. He was relishing this game of control.  
  
No, sir, Buffy told him.  
  
Excellent. You realize, these journals are really quite amusing.  
  
Buffy didn't respond and Ethan placed a hand on her shoulder, Yes, sir, is the appropriate response, Miss Summers.  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
Would you like to know how Ripper felt when you died? Ethan had to admit, he was curious to know if any feeling remained in the Slayer, but Buffy gave him no answer. Miss Summers, I would appreciate it if you could access your memories, the person you were before-tell me how she would've felt.  
  
Yes, sir. She's still here, listening, buried away and she already knows how Giles felt when she died.  
  
You think? Ethan Rayne sincerely doubted old Ripper had shared all his feelings with the young woman. Instead, he told Buffy, You see, lovely child, he was destroyed. Yes, your dear Giles was devastated and only wanted to escape Sunnydale after your death. He might've done it too had the adorable Miss Rosenberg not seen fit to pull you from the heavens. The sorcerer laughed mirthlessly, When Ripper and I played together, he never once mentioned a desire for family or friends, but in this last book, he writes of you as though the daughter of his own flesh was dead. Poor old Rupert, my mate must've cried rivers when he realized what had been done to you... And now, sweet, I own you.  
  
Yes, sir, replied Buffy. Ethan laughed again then told the Slayer to eat and get some rest. They'd be leaving town soon.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Outside the dilapidated building, Tara and the others outlined a plan for getting inside quickly and unseen. The witch recalled a cloaking spell she'd once used when she believed she was a demon, but she wasn't sure she could use it on such a large group of people. Spike, for his part, sat in the car arguing with Dawn and demanding she remain in the vehicle. In the end, Anya volunteered to stay with the pouting teenager, and Xander agreed to provide back-up for Tara while Giles and Spike dealt with Buffy. Just as they were getting ready to go inside, Tara hugged Dawn and realized exactly what she had to do.  
  
We've got to get inside before sunrise for starters, but I know how to use the urn, the earnest witch told the group somberly. Just trust me.  
  
Right then, pet, we go now.  
  
You and Mr. Giles just keep Buffy away from me, answered Tara. If anything happens, you're going to have to take Dawn and run for it, Spike. Promise you'll take care of her?  
  
Already made that promise, love, and nothing will happen to you. Not to any of us, not this time, Spike's words were grim.  
  
Then it's time.  
  
Tara grabbed the urn and forced herself to walk into the dark building, a death march, she thought. She gave Dawn one last look and wave, the girl nodded her understanding in return.  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Well, well, well, pet, I think you and I have a bit of company. What would you say to tearing Ripper apart? Ethan grinned toothily down at Buffy.  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
Good, girl. I knew you were just right for the job, and when this is over, perhaps we can celebrate. His words meant nothing to the Slayer, but inside, the tiniest bit of Buffy that remained raged against Ethan Rayne.  
  
The door opened, and Ethan laughed when Rupert, Spike, Tara, and Xander entered the room. For what seemed hours, no one moved or spoke until Ethan shouted, KILL THEM ALL! The Slayer launched herself at William the Bloody.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
It was blinding and bloody brilliant, Spike thought, as the first solid round kick threw his body into a wall, dust flowed heavily across the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tara grab Xander and run to the opposite side of the room, as far from the fight and Ethan as she could get herself. If she was safe, he'd be happy to battle Buffy into the next thousand years.  
  
Couldn't get enough of old Spike? Eh Slayer? He taunted her, trying to find the rhythm to a dance that wasn't happening. Buffy turned from him, her moves precise and machine-like, to go after Giles.  
  
Buffy, please listen, the Watcher pleaded, we can help you. Still, no answer came from Buffy's lips.  
  
Bugger this! Spike shouted to Giles, You'd better hit that bitch, mate! He was already running to grab at the Slayer from behind.  
  
She spun and slammed a rapid succession of punches into the vampire's face; he somehow managed to roll away from the stake she was holding, barely. While her moves were incredibly deadly, they lacked the passion and fire he'd loved in Buffy so much. This creature wasn't Buffy; it was a monstrous fighting machine. Throwing himself at her legs, Spike knocked Buffy off balance and smashed her head into the concrete floor.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
So what we do, Tara? Xander questioned.  
  
Watch my back, Tara replied, And Xander? If you see things you don't understand, just...just try and accept it. The witch looked away and pulled The Urn of Osiris, filled with salt that wasn't there before, and a knife from her bag. She knew Xander was staring at her, but she really had no time to explain. Vékell had given her the necessary tools, and now it was time to do her part.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Giles watched, horror stricken as Buffy's head smashed into the floor, blood streaming from her cheek where one of Spike's nails left a thin cut. The vampire was grinning, and Ethan Rayne was screaming garbled instructions from the sidelines-protected by magic and distance. As Giles' Slayer snapped her body upward, the Watcher could see her, almost as it if was in slow motion, folding her legs under her to push herself away from the floor. She neither smiled nor made any flippant remarks.  
  
Instead, Buffy leapt powerfully over the leather-clad form of Spike, and she landed neatly next to Giles. True to form, Buffy didn't grapple or punch the Watcher, and Giles could see the years of training streamlined into this one moment as she landed one of the most beautiful high kicks she'd ever done on his chest. He could hear his ribs crack as he watched Buffy descend upon him, Spike running after her. Thankfully, the vampire's timing was good, and Giles saw Buffy's body flying directly toward Ethan Rayne after Spike picked the girl up and tossed her. She sprung back, and the vampire and Slayer advanced upon one another again.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Tara paid no heed to the raging fight or Xander. Moving around him, she formed a circle of salt around them both and uttered an incantation she vaguely understood, ancient words borrowed from the Powers, she thought. Safe from anything Ethan might try, Tara kneeled before the urn and cut her hand, allowing the blood to flow into the vessel as she said, Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear me. As Willow had done so long ago, Tara too dipped her finger into the urn and marked herself with blood. Magical properties filled the urn, and Tara could feel the blood on her face warming and pulsing with the borrowed power.  
  
Before time and after. Before knowing and nothing, Tara stopped speaking to pour the blood over the salt she used to form the shape of an ankh in the center of her circle. Accept my offering. Know my prayer. Time seemed to fold inward, onto itself, and it was almost as if she were back on the night Willow had raised Buffy from the dead. The air sparked with a presence, and Tara swore she could actually see the others, the first spell, but Xander wasn't screaming for Willow this time: he was screaming for her. She felt her head jerk backward, but she held her hand out to stop the man from interfering with what she had to do and yelled, Osiris, there stands a warrior of the people, one that should not have crossed over, give me her soul!  
  
............................................................................................................................................................  
  
Spike felt the electrical charge before he saw the blinding white flash stream through Buffy's body, shaking the Slayer, forcing her to bend to her knees. He turned to see Tara holding the urn above her head, Xander screaming and unable to touch the girl, while white hot energy rushed out of Buffy and toward the little vessel. The vampire, frantic with worry, was certain the urn would smash, unable to contain whatever flowed into it. When the magics stopped, he heard Ethan Rayne scream in fury as Buffy Summers' body crumpled to the floor. It was time, and as much he didn't want to kill her, he knew it was necessary. Moving with speed and grace, he darted to Buffy and picked up her unconscious form as he slipped into game face.  
  
Just as Spike was about to break Buffy's neck, Giles slammed into them bellowing, NO! NOT LIKE THIS! It's my job to do. The Watcher pushed Spike away, saying to Buffy, I'm sorry...so sorry, please forgive me. Tears gushed down Giles face, and his body shook uncontrollably while snapping Buffy's neck. He understood what Tara had done, why he had to kill his Slayer, but the pain was enormous. It was over as quickly as it had begun, Giles sobbing and holding the dead Slayer-for the second time. Not knowing what to say, Spike ran to Tara and Xander. Xander was also crying, and Tara was speaking the word, A column of light so white it seemed to burn the vampire's eyes sped upwards.  
  
His girl, his Tara, turned to him and ran straight into his embrace when Dawn's voice called out, Ethan's getting away! He ran from the building, and there was all this light surrounding it. She stopped, Anya on her heels, and started at Buffy's lifeless body cradled in the Watcher's arms.  
  
That last thing Spike expected to feel was peace, but it happened as ethereal wisps of gold shimmered throughout the room, and Buffy stood in front of all of them, smiling, her mother standing with her.  
  
It's done, the apparition spoke, Giles, you did what you had to, all of you did. Thank you for saving me.  
  
Giles said.  
  
Buffy shook her head at him, No guilt, Giles, I'm where I belong. She reached out, attempting to brush the tears from his eyes as she smiled.  
  
We don't have much time, Joyce reminded her eldest daughter, Dawn, I love you with all my heart, and your sister and I will always watch over you. Buffy said it once before, sweetheart, but now it's time for you to live.  
  
Dawn cried, Mom, I love you so much...I miss you. I miss you both. The teenager could barely stand, and Anya helped her down the basement stairs. Please don't leave me.  
  
I know, baby, you'll see us again, Joyce promised as she moved to her youngest daughter. I swear, you will find us.  
  
Buffy smiled at all of them, Take care of each other, and remember that thing wasn't me. She was never me. I love you so much, Dawn. Tara, thank you. Joyce and Buffy gave each of them one last look and faded from sight.  
  
...........................................................................................................................................................  
  
For awhile, the small group held one another and stood in the dim basement light. Finally, Anya said she was helping Giles to the car. Tara suspected there would be more to come for those two in the future, and the witch held tightly to Dawn and Spike. Xander, alone and bereft, sobbed hysterically while the others tried to get him into the vehicle before the sun rose any further. They drove to Willy's apartment first, picked up Clem, the car they'd left at Doc's place and headed north to Clem's family home. It seemed the only logical place to go for the time being. Later they could handle the details, and Tara had a feeling that Ethan Rayne wasn't as far away as everyone else believed. She suspected he would clean up the scene of his crimes long before the police would ever see anything. Dawn nestled herself between her new guardians, and Tara smiled softly at Spike and the young woman. Leaning across the girl, she kissed Spike gently and whispered, I love you.  
  
Spike's eye lit up at the words, Love you too, pet.  
  
(Epilogue to come soon.)


	11. Epilogue

Note: It's done, finally, and a huge thank you to Linne who is still the most patient of editors. Thanks to all who reviewed, read the story, and have taken the time to pass along helpful suggestions and criticisms along the way. Always a huge benefit to any writer.****

  
Three Years Later

A lush garden, filled with primroses and hydrangeas, bloomed heavily around Tara in a small, intimate courtyard. Ancient oak trees surrounded an old garden house and canopied the yard, blocking most of the sun's rays, and the heavy fragrance of early summer filled the young woman's nose. Several women, including her mother and grandmother, laughed and joked casually together while seated around wrought iron tables covered in white table linens. The Degas House, Tara recognized it immediately from an old photograph hanging in her first water color instructor's office, was one of the most well known inns in New Orleans. When had her mother been here? Several gifts were piled on the tables, Tara noted, people everywhere seemed to very happy, including her Mama. The colors, all muted and gauzy like one of Tara's watercolor paintings, made her feel like she was dreaming, but the idea that a dream could make her smell the flowers, food, and feel the breeze was alien to her, unless she counted that dream when she'd lived Buffy's life. No, this wasn't a dream. It was more like a memory  
  
I'm so glad he let you come, darlin', Tara heard her Aunt Riona's heavy southern accent as she said to Tara's mother. You know, that man just don't understand that we women have to have our parties too.  
  
Unable to hear her mother's response, the young witch moved for a closer look. In a Moses basket, nestled safely in white eyelet, was a baby-Tara Maclay. The adult Tara realized that all the gifts were meant for her, a baby shower thrown by a long dead aunt she wished she'd known better. All around the blonde, conversations focused on how beautiful both mother and child were. One woman said, That darling baby looks just like her mother, which made Tara smile.  
  
Time sped forward in the dream, and Tara found herself standing outside one of the bedrooms in The Degas House where a man stood in the hallway facing a woman the witch couldn't quite see.  
  
You will not do this, he told the woman. These people are mine and have been mine--  
  
I know! Since you came down here and decided to play mate-with-the-humans, an angry and all too recognizable voice hissed.  
  
You couldn't possibly understand, the man snapped at her.  
  
You think you're the only one here with a duty? A job? Screw you, buster!  
  
Duty? Job? Is that what you believe this is, Anyanka? I'm here because I love these people, Tara jumped a little at the words. Who was he?  
  
Love them? Then let me do what D'Hoffryn sent me here to do! Anyanka's voice reached shrill levels.  
  
And leave the women to Robert Maclay? If you think Donald Maclay, Sr., is the worst thing to ever come along for Alana and Tara, then you've obviously never met Robert.  
  
A wish was made, and you have no control over vengeance wishes, Anya insisted, and stop changing yourself! It's very distracting. You were a woman ten minutes ago!  
  
Riona Phelan won't be alive much longer, and if you grant her wish, neither will Alana and Tara. Go back to D'Hoffryn, Anyanka, leave the Phelans and Maclays alone!  
  
Fine, but this ends our friendship.  
  
The man's features melted and changed into that of one of the women from the party, Aud, don't burn all your bridges. You never know when you'll have need of me, the tall, green-eyed, redhead said before whispering, Forget the family. So this was why Anya couldn't remember all the details of her time with Vékell in New Orleans, Tara thought.  
  
Again time sped forward, and Tara watched the redhead hold her mother close in a friendly embrace. Take care of her, Alana, her gifts are great.  
  
I will, old friend, Tara's mother spoke quietly, Are you certain it's her destiny?  
  
Yes, but I swear I will help her! May I hold the child?  
  
Alana Maclay handed baby Tara to the other woman gently, saying, Vékell, I'm counting on you.  
  
I know, dearest. To Tara, Vékell said, You, like your mother, and her mother, and all the women of your line, belong to me. One day, you'll be Keeper of the Key, and you'll know all your powers, child. I wanted a family, Tara, a wife, and I chose well in the Ó Faolains.  
  
They changed it Phelan centuries ago, Alana smiled.  
  
Not when I chose Aislinn for my wife. Tara wasn't a demon, but she understood why her father must have believed all the Phelans' were demonic in nature. After all, how many others could say they were related to the Powers?  
..........................................................................................................................................................  
  
The witch woke up warm, safe, and nestled in her lover's arms. She'd tell her vampire about the dream later, let him rest as long as possible, she decided. Never a demon, but she wasn't quite human either-it was something she could live with. Spike barely stirred when she disentangled herself from the bed linens and his arms. She gently kissed his forehead before slipping quietly into the bathroom for a warm soak, thinking of all that had come to pass since Buffy's death and Willow's disappearance.  
  
Buffy Summers' murder was listed as unsolved, and Ethan Rayne was wanted for questioning. No one had heard any news of Ethan, despite the wanted posters prominently displayed around Sunnydale the first six months after Buffy died. Giles had returned to England two months after the funeral to utilize his Council resources better for the purpose of searching out the sorcerer. Tara also understood he needed to get away from the pain and memories; she couldn't blame him for feeling that way, but she wished he hadn't taken so much guilt upon himself. Anya, unhappy with Giles' departure, had followed the man a month after that. Ten months later, the former demon had called to announce that she and Giles were getting married. Tara had been thrilled for the couple, even when Xander did his best to be sulky as possible. Spike, Tara and Dawn had taken a cruise ship across the pond, as Spike said, to be a part of a very beautiful ceremony. Even Xander had finally relented and stood as best man for Giles while Tara was Anya's maid of honor. Thankfully, Anya's taste in dresses had changed over the years, and Tara found herself fortunate to be wearing a very tasteful, well fitted, strapless silk gown that she'd really liked.  
  
A few weeks after the funeral, Hank Summers had shown up and tried to take Dawn away from Sunnydale, but the girl petitioned the courts for emancipation status. Hank had given up easily and signed the necessary paperwork as quickly as possible, never looking back at Sunnydale again. Dawn refused to reveal the nature of her conversations with her dad, but Tara knew she'd somehow forced him into signing. The teenager ended up working at The Magic Box for Tara. She'd bought the store from Anya and Giles when they decided to open a new business in London, and Spike was always there for both of his girls. In fact, he had a keen eye for bargains and bookkeeping, and Dawn never missed an opportunity to tease the vampire at work. The house on Revello drive was sold to a young married couple starting a family, and Dawn took what little profit she made from the sale to stash away in her savings. She'd become very responsible and was planning for college. Both Tara and Spike were proud of her.  
  
It had taken Xander some time to get over Anya's marriage, but Tara reminded him, You hurt her, Xander, you let her go long before she let you go. He'd finally listened and begun to work through his grief and anger. Only to Tara did the man admit he'd loved Buffy, even when Anya was in the picture, and so he'd divided himself between both women. It was so hard for him to grieve his losses, but Tara was pleased when Xander began to show signs of improvement. It started slowly, but that was good. Five months ago, Xander started making a life of his own with a young woman he'd met through Richard Phillips, his friend from work. Richard's sister, Emily, was studying child psychology at the University. Xander was happy to announce Emily had never a demon, wasn't interested in the occult, and had no desire to destroy the world. Tara found her to be kind, compassionate, and the sort of young woman any parent would be thrilled to have their son bring home. Emily gave Xander the stability and support he'd needed for a long time; he brought out Emily's sense of humor. Even Spike was happy for the two of them.  
  
In the end, it was Tara and Spike who protected the Hellmouth, but the witch had hinted several times that she was ready for a change. Now that Dawn was graduating in the spring, she planned to take her little family on the road for an extended vacation. In order to leave, Spike made the one phone call he claimed dreading more than any other, but it paid off because Angel, his grandsire, was sending a group to look after the Hellmouth in their absence. Tara was grateful to the vampire she'd never met, and she smiled to think about travel-freedom. Their first stop, according to Spike, would be the United Kingdom and a visit to Rupert and Anya Giles. Both Dawn and Tara had agreed, knowing that Anya and Rupert's first child was due very soon, and Anya had said to Dawn, I can't name a baby Buffy! You know that, but if we have a girl, we'd really like to name her Anne if it's okay with you. After the UK, Tara wanted to see France, walk in the vineyards, enjoy the museums and play tourist for a time. Dawn's wish was to see Japan and China, and she said she didn't care where they went first after the baby was born, as long as they went together.  
  
Looking around, Tara realized the house was almost packed. It was so hard to believe that things were changing so swiftly. They'd already sold most of their furniture, and Clem was going to take care of The Magic Box. The only part of business she'd really miss was the gallery she'd made out of Buffy's old training room. Her watercolors, many of which depicted Spike and Dawn in various scenes, had a small but loyal following around Sunnydale, and her paintings had garnered her a modest bit of success. Perhaps Tara would eventually sell The Magic Box to Clem, but never the gallery, she thought, as she mused over her dream and scattered thoughts.  
  
The steam from the bath, thick and humid, collected on the mirror rapidly, and Tara swiped it away with a towel. As she flossed her teeth, her mind continued to wander and plan for the future when movement in the mirror caught her eye. It was the barest glimmer, and it couldn't be, she thought. It's not possible, her breath caught in her throat, The image had faded, but Tara was certain she'd seen Willow on the other side of the mirror.  
  
Spike's voice carried through the warmth of the room, You say something?  
  
She turned from away from the glass, determined not to dwell on the mad glint she'd seen in her former lover's eyes, and smiled at the vampire. After explaining her vision, Spike walked into the room and gathered Tara close to him, kissing her. I'll be fine, she told him, We will all be fine. Do you want to join me? Last bath here in the apartment.  
  
Spike chuckled and nuzzled her throat, tickling the sensitive flesh along her collarbone, Can't resist an offer like that, love. You know, think I'm gonna miss this place.  
  
Not me, she replied.  
  
Not anything about it?  
  
Tara grinned slyly, The bed? And...maybe the tub?  
  
Laughing, Spike replied, Guess we have spent a lot of our time in both places. Then, for a moment, he looked very serious to Tara when he told her, Love you, Tara, always.  
  
And I love you, Spike. She let the anxiety fade, the memories fall into place, and enjoyed her last bath to the fullest.  
  
End


End file.
